


False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

by SideStepping



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Torture, Violence, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 29,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SideStepping/pseuds/SideStepping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and his fellow sorcerers attack and capture Camelot. Morgause leaves it to Merlin to break the young captured Prince. At first Arthur feels only hatred for the sorcerer who stole his kingdom but soon begins to see a side to Merlin that he keeps very very closely hidden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Macbeth. 
> 
> I own neither Macbeth, nor BBC Merlin, all rights belong to their respective owners.
> 
> Update: [Translation into Chinese](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6369091) by the wonderful [Still_GuoMiao](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_GuoMiao)!

As the city of Camelot burned from the sorcerer's attack, Merlin took his place on the throne lounging back with a smile as their warriors reported that Uther had turned tail and fled the city. Uther was a coward and Merlin had expected nothing less of the tyrant king. Uther would not be able to run for long however, their men would hunt him down and bring him to justice.

Beside him, Morgause stood, leaning against the throne inspecting her nails. Morgana was stood be the window, watching something going on down in the courtyard below. Her face was slightly pale and Merlin watched her for a moment. He was never quite sure with Morgana. She was committed, he knew that, she would give her life for their cause, however, that did not change her feelings towards Camelot, the place that had once been her home.

"What do you see Morgana?" he asked quietly, resting his elbow on the arm of the throne and leaning his head on his fist.

"We've secured the courtyard," Morgana said, not taking her eyes from the view below. Something in her tone however made Merlin want to know more.

" _And_ ..." he prompted.

"We've taken Arthur," she said, her tone attempting light but Merlin could hear the tremble.

"What?" he jumped to his feet, Morgause moving beside him.

"They're bringing him in."

Morgana was paler than she had been and Merlin was motionless. A captured Prince. What sort of trouble could that cause?

"Peace, my lord," came Morgause's silky voice from beside him, a hand on his arm and a small curl to her lips. "Arthur's capture is a good thing. We will break him and through him, break Uther, destroying all he holds dear.

"Break him?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow, relaxing slightly and stepping back to sink down again onto the throne.

Morgause smiled wider.

"I have my methods."

Merlin pressed fingers over his lips frowning slightly and letting silence fall for a moment.

"No," he said eventually, "I'll do it."

Morgause shifted in surprise.

"Are you sure my lord?"

Merlin didn't like the way she said his title. It sounded more like a mockery every time she did.

"Yes," he replied stiffly. "I am Emrys, newly crowned king, delighting in the spoils of my new kingdom. Surely I deserve a little ... _fun_?"

Morgause looked marginally impressed and nodded her assent.

Merlin leaned back again and smiled lightly.

Glancing over, he saw Morgana had not moved.

"Morgana, I think it would be best if you weren't here when Arthur arrives. Perhaps you should retire."

Morgana looked startled at the command but after glancing at Morgause, who nodded, she left, slipping out of the room just a a knock came on the doors.

"Enter!" Merlin called.

The doors opened revealing four of their men restraining a blond haired man who was struggling in their gasp.

Merlin had never met the Prince before but he'd heard the tales of his renowned good looks. The tales did not lie. If anything, they failed to comprehend the sheer godliness of the Prince, even red-faced and struggling as he was in the soldier's grasp.

They had either removed his armour, or perhaps he had never had time to put it on when the attack started. He had no sword and as the soldiers forced him to his knees, they bound his hands behind his back. As they stood back however, he raised his chin, defiant to the last. 

"Prince Arthur," Merlin said, not moving from his seat. He watched the Prince as Arthur watched him, each studying the other. "Or should I just say Arthur? I'm afraid we'll have to remove you of your title."

Merlin let a smile tug at his lips as he watched Arthur's glare deepen.

"You'll be sorry to hear your father has left, he didn't wait for you," Morgause, spoke with satisfaction.

Arthur however gave a small snort. "That was the idea," he replied, a hint of smugness in his tone.

Merlin briefly let his magic crackle at his finger tips and he saw Arthur flinch.

"Do you know who we are Arthur?" he asked.

"All I know is that you've taken a throne you have no right to, have destroyed the city and taken innocent lives. And you're sorcerers," he added, glancing warily at Merlin's fingers.

"Very good," Merlin drawled.

He enjoyed this, watching Arthur's defiance. At first he had been repelled by Morgause's suggestion to _break_ the Prince. But now, now he was tempted, Arthur was so like his father, he had so far to fall. 

"So when are you going to execute me?" Arthur asked after a moment's silence.

Merlin shared a smile with Morgause.

"Oh we won't be killing you just yet," Morgause said, "There's still much you can tell us about Camelot and Uther's plans. And well ... we're eager to fully delight in the spoils of our victory."

For a moment, Arthur clearly didn't understand, but then he did and he visibly swallowed before hardening his expression.

"I won't say or do anything you want me to."

Morgause outright laughed, the sound caused Merlin's skin to tingle.

"Oh believe me little Prince, if it gets to that point, you won't have a _choice_."

The other men in the room were laughing and the was a hint of a blush on Arthur's cheeks.

"Take to his chambers, they're as good as any for me to call my own," Merlin said, pushing himself upright in the throne.

Arthur glowered again before he was roughly pulled to his feet.

"You're all the same, you sorcerers, vile, evil things," Arthur spat as the men began to drag him out the room, "no matter what you do, this kingdom will never fall, the people will never turn to you!"

Merlin let his magic rise up at the jibe, letting a single burst lash out at the Prince. Arthur's head snapped to the side from the invisible blow and he felt silent, gasping for breath. When he turned to face the throne again, Merlin wasn't smiling any more.

"You should start to learn some obedience," Merlin growled, purposefully letting his eyes flare gold. Arthur flinched again. "Soon very soon, you will bow before me, swearing your allegiance and life blood to me."

Arthur jutted out his chin. "I will never bow to you."

Merlin jerked his head, fed up with the Prince's games and signalling for the soldiers to take him away. Arthur kept his firm, stony gaze on Merlin until he was out of the room and out of sight.

Only once he was gone did Merlin relax.

"Don't worry my lord," Morgause said, "I'm sure you can break him."

Merlin nodded, standing up, his back straight.

"For now though," Morgause continued, "Camelot is ours. We are victorious."

"Yes," Merlin smiled. "We are."


	2. Chapter 2

_He was sixteen when Morgause found him, carefree and innocent, happy to keep his magic a secret only to let it burst forth in the woods beyond the village and send flowers into bloom wherever he stepped. He understood his mother's cautions and whilst he never was happy with the fact he had to deny the truth about himself, he never thought to fight._

_Until she came._

_At first she had tried to talk him into joining her cause. But Merlin had said no, his mother's hand tight in his._

_She had taken him from his mother, and talked to him again, persistent that Uther needed to be overthrown, that magic needed to rule. He had said no again and her anger flared up, she hit him across the face and he staggered back. No one had ever hit him before._

_She'd taken hold of his arm and whispered a spell, transporting them into a world of darkness before the darkness solidified and show a courtyard, filled with people, a pyre built in it's centre, a woman bound upon it._

_"Where are we?" Merlin had asked, trembling with fright._

_"My memories," Morgause had replied coldly._

_The pyre had been lit, the woman had burned._

_"Who was that?" Merlin had asked, once they had left her mind, the woman's screams still ringing in his ears._

_"My sister, Nimueh."_

_"Why did she die?"_

_"Because she had magic."_

_"But -"_

_"But nothing Merlin. That is the fate that faces every single one of us because of who we were born to be. Our duty is to stand up and fight."  
_

_When they returned to Ealdor, Merlin went to his mother and explained what he had seen._

_"I have to go, you understand mother?"_

_She nodded, then cried and Merlin held her._

_"I just hope you're still my boy when you come back."_

_He left with Morgause, his magic immediately put to use in aiding bandit attacks throughout the kingdom._

_He never liked to kill, but somewhere along the way, he got used to it. And, as Morgause often reminded him, it was for the good of the cause._

_Somewhere on his journey, perhaps after his mother died when Uther failed to send aid to Ealdor in times of need, perhaps that was when the darkness crept in. When he forgot about the boy who loved to bring the world to life and turned into the sorcerer who was feared for his destruction and the death that followed his every step._

* * *

 They left Arthur alone in his room, still in a state of untidiness from where he had had to run and aid the knights against the magical attack.

They'd managed to get his father out of the city, and for that Arthur was glad, but the sorcerer's men had closed in on him and taken him to the throne room.

 _Break him_. Well if that was what they planned to do, they were going to have a hard time. 

They had locked the door and he presumed it was guarded on the other side. Going to the window, he looked down and grimaced when he saw the courtyard swarming with enemy soldiers.

Trying a different tack, he immediately began searching the room for weapons.

His sword he'd lost in the fight but he retrieved his dagger from under the bed and slid a knife, left behind from his breakfast, into his belt. Then he began assessing the room for places to hide. He reasoned that when taking on a sorcerer, an element of surprise was key. He had no gauge on the sorcerer's powers but any enemy could be taken down if they were unprepared for a fight.

His searching for a suitable hiding place was cut short when he heard footsteps approaching the door. Dashing to conceal himself behind the cupboard, Arthur steadied his breathing and tightened he grip on the dagger as the door opened.

The footsteps paused, the sorcerer, and he presumed it was the man, hesitating as he found the room empty. The man walked further into the room, into Arthur's line of sight and looked around in slight confusion and a pinch of worry in the middle of his brow.

Arthur waited.

The sorcerer walked to the bed and knelt to peer under it.

Arthur seized the opportunity and sprang from his hiding place, dagger raised to strike.

His blow never landed however. When he got within a meter of the sorcerer, he hit some sort of shield and was blasted backwards off his feet.

The sorcerer turned, a smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed Arthur, lying winded on the floor.

With a glow of his eyes, the dagger in Arthur's hand grew suddenly boiling hot and he dropped it with a yelp.

"You would be wise to realise you are powerless against me," the sorcerer said.

"I had to at least try and escape didn't I?" Arthur grumbled slightly, cradling his burned hand.

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow in amusement. "And for that I commend you, but we can't allow it to happen again can we?"

He chanted a spell and from nowhere a thin silver chain sprang into being, one end fastened to the bedpost, the other to a cuff on Arthur's ankle.

Arthur reached to pull at it but as his fingers brushed the metal, burning pain shot through his flesh.

Snatching his hand away, he winced as he realised both his palms were now burned.

The sorcerer rolled his eyes.

"And they said you were intelligent."

Arthur reddened at the insult, getting to his feet and moving away from the sorcerer. He walked until he reached the end of the chain and then dropped down to sit with his back against the wall. His breakfast knife, he noted, was still in his belt.

The sorcerer rolled his eyes and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Arthur blurted.

Pausing, the sorcerer turned to face him.

"Does it concern you?" he asked bluntly.

Arthur shrugged. "You've captured me ... I don't even know your name."

The sorcerer blinked. "It's M-" he hesitated, then swallowed. "Emrys."

He was gone in a swirl of his cloak and only once the door was shut did Arthur let himself cradle his hands, blinking back tears at the pain. He forced himself to snap out of it almost immediately however. He was the Prince of Camelot, he had been trained to master all kinds of physical pain. He needed to stay strong, for Camelot.

Getting up, he paced a little, trying to figure out a plan. He couldn't escape until the chain was removed and that wouldn't happen until the sorcerers believed they had well and truly broken him. So, he had to let them think that.

The idea repulsed him but he needed to do what was necessary. He made plans to see if anyone else still loyal to Camelot was still in the city, imprisoned or in hiding and then he thought through every action the sorcerers had made against him and Camelot so far, trying to determine how powerful they really were.

His conclusions weren't happy ones but he satisfied himself knowing that every enemy, no matter how strong, had a weakness.

Eventually, he grew tired and looked around the room for somewhere to sleep. The bed seemed like too much of an open invitation and so he took one of the rugs from the bed and spread it on the floor as near as the chain would allow him to the warmth of the fire.

Curling up, he lay facing the door, ready in case anyone should come in. After a long time waiting with no one arriving, he let his eyes fall shut, drifting into an uneasy sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

When he woke, he blinked in surprise at the blanket that was covering him. Night had faded to morning and the fire was long dead in the hearth. He wondered who had given him the blanket to stay warm.

Upon looking around, he discovered he was not alone in the room. Shooting upright, he narrowed his eyes at the female sorcerer, sat at the table, toying with his dagger which he had lost in the fight yesterday.

"Ah, you're awake," she stated, not taking her eyes off the point where the dagger was working a hole in the wood.

"Where's Emrys?" Arthur asked, not entirely sure why, but feeling the dark haired sorcerer was a lot safer to be around than this woman.

" _King_ Emrys - really Arthur, you should learn to use your master's title correctly. You can address me as Lady Morgause, or mistress."

Arthur regarded her coolly.

Looking up from her vandalism of the table, Morgause smirked.

Realising he wasn't going to get any information from he unless he played the game, Arthur shifted and swallowed.

"Where is the King?" he asked, disgust rising in his throat. He had sworn allegiance to his father, his true king, till death. Even in this small act, he felt the guilt of betrayal.

"He is busy with matters of court," Morgause responded. "He told me about your little game last night. I see he had to restrain you accordingly."

Remembering the chain for the first time since he'd woken up, Arthur pulled at it lightly.

"I wanted to take a much more brutal approach. If I'd had my way you'd have been down in the dungeons, whipped until you know longer knew your own name and then ... well, we won't go into the details. Emrys made me back down however, said his approach would work."

"And what is his approach ... my Lady," Arthur added after a hesitation.

Morgause smirked once again. "Wait and see."

Arthur didn't know which made him more uncomfortable, the cold, impassive tone with which she'd described his possible torture, or her clear excitement in what lay in store for him.

"I won't break. I'll never betray Camelot."

Arthur realised he really should learn that defiance was getting him nowhere. The dagger flashed out of nowhere, slicing across his cheek of its own accord. Arthur flinched at the pain but refused to wipe away the blood that was trickling down his cheek.

Morgause was inspecting her nails.

 _She's easily angered_ _though_ , Arthur thought to himself, filing the thought away for later.

"He is far more dangerous than you can ever imagine, his power knows no limits," Morgause said impassively. "And for what you've done to me and my kind, you would be wise not to test me."

She left the room, her threat hanging in the air.

Arthur brought his hand up to his cheek, wiping at the blood which had collected there. His hand came away stained red and he grimaced.

 _You could be a lot worse off though_ , a voice said in his head. Part of the fear he was feeling deep in his stomach, was that Emrys and Morgause hadn't really _done_ anything. ... Yet.

He had dropped off to sleep again when he heard the door opening. This time he got to his feet, determined to appear strong.

The person who appeared shocked him however.

"Gwen!" His exclamation was both of relief and fear.

"Arthur ..." Gwen blinked at him, her gaze finding his cheek.

"It's nothing," he said, "just a scratch."

"I expected to find you worse," Gwen said, coming into the room fully, standing almost awkwardly before Arthur.

Arthur shook his head, slightly bemused at that fact as well. "They haven't done anything."

"They sent me to clean the room," Gwen said, gesturing around at the general state of untidiness.

"My manservant clearly was distracted yesterday ..." Arthur trailed off. He didn't know what had happened to George. The thought made him slightly sick.

"Don't worry, I'll sort it."

Arthur blinked in surprise as Gwen immediately set to tidying, straightening the furniture and putting his clothes away. She even made the bed, not commenting on Arthur chosen sleeping arrangements.

Arthur felt a little useless, however he kicked a pair of his boots under the bed as a method of doing _something_.

Gwen gave him an admonishing glance and retrieved them, putting them next to the cupboard.

Arthur sighed and dropped back onto his rug.

"Are you alright?" he asked, cursing himself for not asking sooner.

"Yes fine," Gwen replied briskly, "most of the servants are. Scared of course ... but physically fine. That's the most we can ask for really."

"What are they getting you to do?" Arthur asked.

Gwen hesitated in the folding of his jacket. "I'm acting as maidservant ... to Morgana."

Arthur made a small noise, of anger or sadness he wasn't quiet sure.

"I guess I should have expected her to be here," he said bitterly.

"She's ... fine. But, not the Morgana we used to know," Gwen said hesitantly.

"And can any of us claim to know her?" Arthur replied, running a hand through his hair in mild frustration, "it was probably all just a pack of lies."

Gwen finished tidying and came to sit in front of Arthur.

"She wasn't all bad," she said quietly.

Arthur shook his head, showing the topic was at an end. He didn't want to think about Morgana.

"Who else ... who else is here? Are there any knights?" he asked, half hopeful, half dreading Gwen's response.

"Some knights were captured, I believe Sir Leon is among them, the rest escaped ... or are dead." Gwen went pale for a moment and Arthur felt a pang of sorrow for his fallen comrades.

"Your father escaped of course, but Gaius is still here. He's safe don't worry, I think they're still determining whether he's a threat."

"I need to see him," Arthur said quickly.

"It'll be difficult," Gwen admitted, "you're guarded. I don't think they'll trust Gaius."

"Do they trust you?" Arthur asked.

"I'm just a servant," Gwen shrugged. "What could I possibly do?"

Arthur gave a despondent sigh and Gwen reached out to touch his shoulder, a firm, but gentle presence.

"Stay strong Arthur, Camelot needs you."

Arthur met her gaze, full of strength and surety and above all hope, which Arthur couldn't quite fathom.

"You too," he responded quietly.

Nodding and taking her hand back, Gwen got to her feet and left. 

Arthur was alone again. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** This chapter involves some fairly graphic physical violence/torture.

It was late evening by the time Emrys returned to Arthur's chambers. The day had been long and after Gwen and Morgause's departure, fairly boring. Arthur had not moved from his rug and Emrys simply stood in the doorway for a moment, contemplating him, before moving across the room and removing his cloak.

"Have you not been taught to stand when your King enters your presence?" Emrys asked, draping his cloak over the bed.

"Of course," Arthur replied tautly. He couldn't help but admire the contours of Emrys' back which stood out starkly under his shirt. Lean and strong limbs moved fluidly as Emrys turned back to face him.

"Then why aren't you standing?"

Arthur returned Emrys' gaze, a blaze of determination alighting within him.

"You're not my king."

Emrys smirked and turned back to the bed.

"We'll see."

Arthur glared. Anger rising that this sorcerer would dare take his father's kingdom, would dare believe he had a right to the throne, would dare think that he could break Arthur.

A moment later, Arthur had the curious sensation of his limbs acting of their own accord. Very slowly, his legs forced themselves under him and then, no matter how much he fought it, they straightened, bringing him to a standing position.

Furious and red with embarrassment, Arthur tried to move forwards, but found he couldn't, the sorcerer holding him in place.

As he turned back once more, Arthur saw the gold fade from Emrys' eyes and his limbs suddenly relaxed, allowing him to take a shaking step forward before his legs gave way under him.

"I would get you to kneel, but I think my point is made."

"I'll never stand willingly," Arthur gritted out.

Emrys seemed to fly across the room as he suddenly appeared in front of Arthur, face up close.

"You will learn to."

Arthur regarded him with cold impassiveness.

"I'm not afraid of people like you." The lie was a fairly big one and sounded childish to his ears. Arthur had always feared magic, a practice instilled in him by his father. But the sorcerer still failed to give him or do anything to him, to really be scared of.

Emrys cocked his head on one side, a smile curling his lips.

"You will be."

He moved away after that and Arthur shuffled back onto his rug, watching the sorcerer's every move.

"Gwen's a lovely girl."

The unexpected comment caught Arthur unawares.

"What ... what do you mean by that?"

"She's very loyal isn't she. Morgana said she always was. And of course, we expected her to talk to you, but not quite so loudly."

"If you ... if you hurt her."

"Oh do you care for her Pendragon? Tut tut, your father would not be happy, in love with a servant?"

"It's not like that. She's a friend. I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand what that means."

The blow came far faster than Arthur expected and he didn't even see the sorcerer move. Emrys was frozen in place even as an invisible whip came lashing across Arthur's face. His cheek, already scratched from the dagger, exploded in pain.

Emrys didn't hold back and blow after blow landed heavy and harsh on Arthur. He could feel the blood on his face even as the lashes started to move down his body, across his chest and then his stomach. He gripped hold of the rug under him to provide some grounding. He'd been through training for torture. He could master this.

But as the pain continued, Arthur found his resolve beginning to wane. He just wanted it to stop.

With a bang he was thrown backwards across the floor until the chain ran out and his foot jerked causing another rip of pain up his leg.

"Don't say I don't know friendship." Emrys sounded breathless, Arthur was struggling to remain conscious. "Not when every friend I've ever known has been taken from me because of Camelot's endless bloody crusade against my kind."

Arthur focused enough to see tears on Emrys' face. He looked down at himself and saw blood across his chest.

"You do things like this and then wonder why we hate you?" Arthur was partly incredulous. His father had said one should never try and understand a sorcerer's motives. They were all twisted and mad.

"People like you," Emrys spat, "deserve it." He turned on his heel and headed to the other end of the chamber.

Arthur rolled onto his side, allowing himself a moment of weakness whilst Emrys couldn't see.

* * *

Merlin stood by the window, conscious of Arthur still in the room behind him but he could sense the Prince too was letting his guard down. He himself, rested his hands on the window sill and closed his eyes, soothing the frantic crazed beast that had arisen within him.

He hadn't meant to turn into this. Hadn't meant to hurt people and enjoy it.

He'd just been so _angry_.

Pendragon was just so defiant. So bright, golden and good ...

He pushed away from the window, hastily wiping his eyes. Pendragon was nothing more than a tool. A method to conquer Uther and win the war. Maybe then, he could find some peace.

He moved back into the room and watched as Arthur hesitantly crawled back to his rug, a hand across his chest where the worst of the bleeding was.

Streaks of blood were left behind him as he moved.

There was a knock at the door, and Merlin bade the person enter, watching Arthur as the Prince attempted to prop himself up. Still determined to appear strong. 

The person who entered caught them both by surprise and whilst Merlin relaxed in her presence, Arthur immediately tensed up.

"Morgana," Merlin said, walking to meet her. "How may I help?"

Morgana's eyes were on Arthur, partly withdrawn, partly clearly horror stricken by the blood. Arthur would not meet here gaze.

"Morgana?" Merlin asked after a beat.

She seemed to shake herself and focused on Merlin.

"I came to see how you were."

Merlin could see the veiled truth in her words. She'd have known Arthur was here, surely she must have come to see him. Feigning ignorance at her lie, Merlin smiled.

"I am more than well, I hope you're settling back into Camelot well."

Morgana's gaze had drifted back to Arthur again.

"Ah yes," Merlin said, as if noticing her lack of concentration for the first time. "A minor disciplinary issue."

"He always was so stubborn," Morgana said quietly.

Arthur gave a soft snort of derision.

"We should get Gaius to treat him," Morgana said. "His wounds could become infected."

Merlin shrugged, still fighting to hold onto the ideal of Arthur being nothing more than any other prisoner.

"Why should it matter?"

Morgana eventually turned her gaze back to him and here he saw something more of the old Morgana.

"You don't know what Arthur gets like when he's sick," she replied, a playful smirk on her lips. "He was quite terrible as a child."

Merlin laughed, from what he knew of the Prince, he could easily imagine it.

Arthur simply glared.

"Send for Gaius then, and get a maid to clean the floors."

"Of course, Merlin."

Merlin made to shush her but it was too late. He saw Arthur's head shoot up and his eyes narrow.

Morgana, realising her mistake, blinked.

"Of course, Lord Emrys," she amended, and hurried from the room.

" _Mer_ lin," came the Prince's voice. "What kind of a name is that?"

Merlin swallowed hard. "Just a memory," he responded quietly.

He left before he could say anything else, a deep seated pain rising up in him. He blinked away tears and strode off down the corridor.

Nothing more than a tool. A prisoner. He didn't matter. Soon, all this would be over.

He had to keep believing that.


	5. Chapter 5

"Arthur, Arthur! Can you hear me?"

Arthur awoke, someone slapping his face.

As the figure in front of him solidified, Arthur blinked, then jumped, pain wracking his body.

"I was beginning to worry you wouldn't wake," Gaius said, reaching for his medicine bag.

"Gaius ..." Arthur slurred. "What 'appened?"

"You must have passed out from blood loss. You took a beating Arthur."

"You think I don't know?" Arthur grumbled, mustering the strength to look down. His shirt was a mess, ripped and bloodied. He didn't really want to see the extent of the damage below the thin cloth.

"Can you heal me?" he asked.

"Of course," Gaius responded, taking out cloths and a flask of some sort of ointment. He reached for Arthur, pulling up his shirt and wincing.

"You never flinch," Arthur said, too dazed to be properly worried by the fact. "I've come to you with all kinds of injuries and you never flinch."

"This is bad," Gaius murmured in response. He dragged a bucket of water closer and began dabbing at Arthur's wounds. Arthur hissed in pain, hands fisting into the rug.

"You can't provoke them, Arthur," Gaius reprimanded.

"What does it matter? It's not like they're one day going to let me go. It's not like I'll ever defeat them. I'll die before I change my allegiance Gaius, why make this imprisonment last?"

Gaius jabbed him extra hard with the cloth. "That is not what you truly think and you know it."

Arthur had to admit, Gaius was right. The determination was still there, he was still prepared to fight but in the midst of his pain, his strength and resolves were wavering.

"They're sorcerers, how am I meant to defeat them Gaius?"

"Every enemy has a weakness," Gaius stated.

"And I'm supposed to find it how?"

"Watch, and wait."

They turned to silence, Gaius gently cleaning each of the lash marks then picking up the ointment to wipe over the deeper cuts. Arthur closed his eyes, distancing himself from the pain and trying to think of some sort of plan. A frown creased his forehead as he thought about something Guinevere had said earlier.

"Gwen said they were still working out if they can trust you ... why would they trust you?" Gaius was just finishing but his hands stilled.

"I have magic," he said hesitantly. "But have not used it in some time. Your father knows about my powers and knows I would never use them except to help this kingdom."

Arthur regarded Gaius, wondering why he hadn't worked this out before. It seemed, somewhat obvious. Gaius, with all his potions and remedies. He was famous for his talents, quite _magical_ , people said.

Arthur snorted to himself.

"I would have hoped for a more mature response, sire," Gaius said, with the air of speaking to a small child. He gave Arthur a grim smile however. He knew Arthur trusted him and knew he could trust Arthur.

"You need to help me escape," Arthur said quietly, lowering his voice because he knew Emrys, Merlin, whatever his name was, had overhead his conversation with Gwen and he couldn't risk being eaves-dropped on again.

"It will be difficult," Gaius replied, an eyebrow raised.

"I need to get to my father, Gaius. Help him. Is there anything, _anything_ you can think of that would help me?"

Gaius was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about something.

"There may be something," he said, sounding uncertain.

"What? Gaius you have to tell me!" Arthur made the urgency plain in his voice. Hope sparked inside him because if he could escape, or if he could take down one of the sorcerers, then they would be one step closer to taking the kingdom back.

Gaius hesitated. "I will have to do some research, I can't promise anything."

" _Gaius_ ," Arthur practically growled.

"No, Arthur, I have to be certain. Please, believe me, I will do everything to get you out of here, just give me time."

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Ok," he conceded eventually.

Gaius finished his ministrations and helped Arthur to stand whilst he replaced the rug Arthur had been resting on, the old one stained with blood. Then he found a new shirt and gently helped Arthur change into it. As Arthur dropped back to the floor he noticed his stomach growling in protest.

"You don't have any food do you?" it was almost two days since he'd last eaten and he guessed his current state wasn't helped by his lack of food.

Smiling, Gaius brought some bread and cheese from his medicine bag.

"I guessed they might not have been feeding you," he said. Arthur grabbed it and began wolfing it down, only to be stopped by Gaius who forced him to eat it slower.

Gaius then handed him a flask of water which Arthur gulped down gratefully. He then helped Arthur to his feet once more and took him to the chamber pot to relieve himself.

"If I have one piece of advice," Gaius said, gently lowering Arthur back to the rug. "Play their game. Let them think they've won." Arthur nodded, he'd come to the same conclusion himself.

"Which means no more provoking them," Gaius added, his eyebrow raised once again.

Arthur nodded, then, as Gaius got to his feet, he reached out to stop the older man.

"I'm glad you're here with me," he said sincerely. "And ... the magic, it doesn't matter. I know you're not like them."

Gaius nodded his appreciation.

"You'll be a great king one day Arthur," he said with a solemn nod.

The door opening made them jump apart and Gaius hastily stepped away, pulling his bag over his shoulder.

"Sire," Gaius inclined his head toward whoever had entered and peering round him, Arthur saw it was Emrys.

"Gaius," Emrys responded shortly.

"I've tended to the Prin -- to Arthur. But I should return to my duties," Gaius said, heading for the door.

"Thank you, Gaius." Emrys said, a small nod of his head towards the older man.

Gaius met Emrys' eyes for a brief moment, then, with a bow, left the room.

Emrys turned his gaze on Arthur, a smirk playing round his mouth.

"Feeling comfortable?" he asked.

Biting back the retort he wanted to give, Arthur simply lowered his gaze. _Play the game_.

"As good as I could be, considering the circumstances," he responded quietly, waiting for Emrys' reaction.

"Good," Emrys responded, smiling, then heading for the bed.

As he climbed below the covers, Arthur relaxed back against the wall, closing his eyes and letting out a short breath.

He still had the breakfast knife, what ever use that may become, and for now, he just had to play the game.

Watch, wait ... _survive_.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur awoke early, his back stiff from sleeping on the hard stone floors a second night in a row. His stomach growled in hunger and he was thirsty so, getting up from where he had been lying, he crossed quietly to the table where a water jug and goblet were standing. He spared a glance over his shoulder to see that Emrys was buried under the covers and Arthur paused for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of the blanket in time with Emrys' breathing.

Another pang of hunger shot through him and he jumped back into the moment, softly pouring himself a drink and gulping it down. The water cooled his dry throat and once the goblet was empty, he refilled it, crossing to the window as he drank, slower now.

Dawn was beginning to appear over the horizon and Arthur could see trails of smoke rising from houses in the lower town. Arthur leaned against the window frame, wary of his still healing wounds and watched as the sun began to rise.

Dawn was a wonderful time of day, he reflected. Despite always bemoaning about getting out of bed in the morning, there was something quite captivating about this moment. The quiet hush that fell over the city, pink rays of the sun creeping over the hills in the distance.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, watching as the sky turned from grey, to pink, to orange and then to blue.

"It is a gorgeous thing, isn't it?"

Arthur jumped, spinning where he was stood to find Emrys stood, not far away, arms casually folded across his chest and his gaze not on Arthur, but on the view beyond the window. Arthur caught himself staring, eyes traveling across Emrys' soft white shirt, lean muscles and strong collar bones underneath.

If Emrys noticed, he made no comment and instead came to stand beside Arthur, a hand on the wall another on his hip.

Spoiling the moment, Arthur's stomach gave another growl.

Emrys looked at Arthur, an amused smirk, that wasn't unkind, curling his lip. He went to the table, pulling out a chair and gesturing for Arthur to come over.

"Sit, I'll have a maid bring up some breakfast."

Eying Emrys with distrust, Arthur came and sat, suspicious of the too genuine smile on Emrys face. The chain which pulled around his ankle kept him in reality as Emrys also sat. 

"How are the servant's going to know we wanting food?" Arthur asked, trying not to shift uneasily under Emrys' gaze.

"I've sent a message," he replied, eyes twinkling with hidden laughter.

Arthur opened his mouth, brow creased in confusion, then closed it again. Magic, of course.

Not long after, a servant arrived, laden with trays of food. Emrys was all thanks, graciously complimenting the servant's work and sending his thanks to the kitchen. The serving boy looked like he couldn't get out of the room fast enough.

Emrys loaded a plate with food, sausages, tomatoes, cheese and bread, for Arthur and passed it over to him.

Arthur took it, biting his lip because Emrys was being _nice_ and he couldn't understand it.

"Eat," Emrys said.

The food was good and Arthur had to force himself not to eat too fast, Gaius' food from the previous day having done nothing much to quell his hunger.

He stopped at one point, aware of Emrys' eyes on him, then returned to eating.

"So, you're actually called Merlin," Arthur said eventually, hoping to somehow break Emrys' stare. He'd thought about the name and somehow couldn't match _Merlin_ to the person he saw in front of him, eyes shadowed, emanating power. It didn't seem to fit. Emrys was the name of his enemy. Merlin sounded too much like a friend.

"Yes," Emrys replied, reaching for a goblet of wine. "That was my name."

Taking note of his use of past tense, Arthur continued to eat.

"So you weren't always ..." he gestured vaguely with a hand, " _Emrys._ "

"No."

Emrys was still smiling and it unnerved Arthur, not simply because continual smiling in itself was creepy, but also because he could practically trick himself into believing it was genuine.

 _He's playing with your head, Arthur_.

Finishing his food, Arthur pushed the plate away, suddenly feeling slightly sick. It was hard, he realised, to hate someone who was nice to you.

All he had to do however, was close his eyes and he could see the wild fury burning in Emrys' eyes from the previous day, the burning sting of the whip across his skin.

"I'm afraid it's going to be another dull day for you," Emrys said, cleaning the last bits of pork from his plate, "I'm tied up with matters of court."

"I'll live," Arthur replied dryly.

"And then tomorrow we've had word that Cenred's coming to pay his respects to the new king. Morgause has requested you attend the meeting."

Arthur's gut clenched and he swallowed hard, already imagining Cenred's mocking and boasting. Long had he been Camelot's enemy and now he would come to stand in front of Arthur who had been helpless to watch her fall.

"You don't like Cenred?" Emrys asked.

"Who does?"

Emrys shrugged. "He's tolerable I suppose."

"How long have you known him?" Arthur asked, making sure to keep his tone level as he tried to glean a glimpse into Emrys' past.

"I used to live in Cenred's kingdom," Emrys responded, his tone neutral and his eyes, somewhat withdrawn. The smile was gone from his face.

"When did you leave?"

"I was sixteen, Morgause found me, asked me to join her cause."

"Did you want to?"

Emrys opened his mouth then froze, a smile creeping across his face once more.

"Oh very good, young Prince," he said, a small laugh bubbling out. " _Very good._ Was that your plan then? Find out my deepest darkest secrets and then use them against me?"

Emrys was laughing and Arthur resisted the urge to back away.

Emrys sighed. "You do know you'll never escape?" he asked, a seriousness entering his tone that had chills running up and down Arthur's spine. "It would be easier, to give in now, save us, save you, a lot of pain."

It was Arthur's turn to smile. "Naah, I think I keep my loyalty," he responded lightly.

Emrys shrugged and got up from his seat.

"Your loss."

Arthur watched silently as Emrys left, then got up from his seat, returning to the window to watch the courtyard below, scowling as he watched some of the enemy soldier's harassing a young girl.

It was only after a long time had passed, and the sun had risen high in the sky, that Arthur realised Emrys had never actually answered his question.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin tore another grape from the bunch and popped it into his mouth, biting down and letting the sweet wetness explode in his mouth. He stood at the window, looking down into the courtyard below where Cenred was greeting Morgause, the rest of his company behind him.

His conversation with Arthur the previous day had left him shaken. He'd grown close, dangerously close to giving things away and that was one thing he couldn't do. So much of his past he'd kept hidden, from the people around him, from Morgause, even from himself. The past was ... the past. This was the life he led now, and there was no going back.

The splashing of water behind him drew his attention and he turned to see Arthur washing his hair in the basin a maid had brought up. He'd taken off his shirt and the bare expanse of skin left Merlin momentarily breathless with awe. Muscles rippled under his skin, tensing and relaxing in a pattern as he raised the water to his hair and then let his arms drop again. Merlin was captivated.

The door opened and Arthur paused in his washing, his eyes narrowing as Morgana entered.

"Cenred's here," she said, directing her words to Merlin after an almost frightened glance in Arthur's direction. "We're gathering in the throne room."

"We'll be there shortly," Merlin replied with a smile. Morgana's tense expression relaxed almost marginally and she smiled at Merlin before she left. Merlin was glad he could still comfort her, like he had before. They'd been through a lot together.

Arthur had drawn on a clean shirt by the time Merlin looked back and he stood somewhat awkwardly, as if waiting for Merlin's command.

"Let's go then," Merlin said airily.

"I can't," Arthur said, jerking the chain round his ankle irritably.

Holding back a smile at how much of a spoiled child, not getting his way Arthur looked in that moment, Merlin clapped his hands, eyes glowing gold at the same time.

The cuff round his ankle sprang to Arthur's left wrist and the other end, which had been bound to the bed, jumped to his right. With trepidation, Arthur tested the chain only to give a sigh when it did not give.

"I've taken off the burning enchantment," Merlin said, gracing Arthur with another smile. "But we don't want Cenred thinking we're letting you be too comfortable." he added, as Arthur yanked on the chain again.

Arthur gave him a tight, sarcastic smile in response and Merlin let a small laugh escape him. He just looked so gorgeous when he was defiant.

"Right," he said, pulling himself from a train of thought it would be better _not_ to go down. "Let's go."

* * *

The throne room was quiet as Arthur and Emrys entered, Emrys a step in front and Arthur behind, determinedly not looking at anyone in particular. He realised he must look somewhat too defiant and so lowered his gaze to the floor, a picture of humility. A servant in his master's steps.

Every part of him screamed that this wasn't right, that these people had destroyed his kingdom, taken his father's throne. They were sorcerers, murderers ...

He calmed his breathing. _Play the game, Arthur_.

The throne stood empty, Morgause on one side and Morgana on the other. Gwen stood near to Morgana, her gaze fearful and worried but when her and Arthur's eyes met, she gave him a small nod. Arthur dropped his gaze again.

Gaius stood away the left of the throne and Arthur could see him avoiding his gaze. A guard stood at his side and Arthur's gut twisted, thinking with dread what they might have been doing to the old man. Still, Gaius looked well enough. Perhaps he too was playing the game.

Then there was Cenred, stood down from the throne, idly slouched and inspecting his nails. His men stood around him and Arthur felt more than one pair of greedy eyes settle on him. He resisted the urge to shiver.

As Emrys came to Cenred's side, he stopped and extended a hand. Cenred took it, but his gaze wasn't on Emrys, it had already moved to Arthur.

"Such a pleasure, to come to this city and pay respects, my lord," Cenred said, his voice slick and oily.

Arthur kept his gaze firmly on the floor. _Don't rise, don't rise_.

"A pleasure to have you," Emrys responded, his voice smooth and even.

"I was glad to hear of your conquest, sire," Cenred said, a smirk flickering across his face. "Too long the Pendragons have taken what they want from this land. Too long have they reigned."

_Don't listen to him, Arthur_.

"Yes, I'm glad we are of the same mind on that." Arthur could feel both Cenred and Emrys' gaze on him now. In fact, he'd guess pretty much the whole hall was looking at him, waiting for him to lash out.

"I see you've taken an interest in the Prince," Cenred said, stepping away from Emrys and toward Arthur. "And I must say, it's impressive what you've done with him, the Arthur I know would never be so ... _compliant_."

Arthur raised his gaze marginally, enough to throw Cenred a glare which passed over exactly what he thought. Cenred smirked.

"I am skilled in many things my lord Cenred," Merlin said, a smile on his face. "Bending the will of an arrogant Prince is no great feat."

"What say you Arthur?" Morgause's voice rang out. "Would you say you are broken yet? Ready to kneel?" Her voice was mocking and Arthur heard others laugh.

He raised his head, his expression impassive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gaius shaking his head. A warning. _Play the game._

"I'll kneel to a true king," Arthur replied guardedly. 

There was a brief silence, then Emrys snorted. 

"I don't know which is more insulting. That he doesn't see me as a true king or that he does see Uther as one."

"My father--" Arthur began, rising to the jibe as Emrys had clearly known he would. Cenred, however, cut him off. 

"He needs to be defeated," Cenred said confidently.

"It may have passed your notice, but he already has been," Emrys responded tightly, gesturing to Arthur's chains.

"By magic, yes. But to truly break him, truly break his pride, he needs to be defeated by a man."

Emrys' gaze fell on Arthur, considering.

"Let it happen," Morgause said, stepping down from next to the throne. "You'll fight him, won't you Cenred?"

Cenred's jaw tightened, but then he simply unstrapped his gauntlet from his wrist and threw it down at Arthur's feet.

"To the death," he growled.

Emrys scowled disapprovingly but Arthur had already stooped and picked up the gauntlet.

"It'll be a pleasure," he responded in a growl. In all truth, he was looking forward to it. He could wield a sword, it was what he had been trained to do all his life. And, as Cenred had said, he was just a man, he didn't have magic. He could be defeated. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Character death in this chapter and some violence.

The sun and fresh air disoriented Arthur as he stepped outside for his first time in days. Guards surrounded him as he was marched out of the citadel, through the town and down to the arena, set up just beyond the walls of the city.

Faces appeared in the windows, watching their Prince walk past. People in the streets stopped to look, eyes wide and sometimes pitying, sometimes fearful. Emrys walked at the head of the group, a black cloak sweeping out behind him, sending the peasants shrinking as he passed.

Arthur felt sick. The people that had once been so happy, now hid in their houses. The streets, once bustling and crowded with noise were empty. He tried to hold his head high, determined to show that he was still fighting, but the chains round his wrists clinked and chafed at his skin, a reminded that he was defeated. Or at least, that was how his enemies wanted him to be.

The arena was the same one they had always used for tournaments and jousting matches, but the bright Pendragon banners had been stripped leaving the space bare and drab. A few figures were huddled in the stands, looking scared and Arthur could see guards all around the edge of the arena. In the royal box, his father's seat was empty, presumably left for Merlin but on one side was Morgana and on the other side Morgause. Cenred stood in the center of the arena, forgoing armour, for which Arthur was relieved as none had been offered to him. Cenred's blade glinted in the sunlight, but even the sight of it gave Arthur strength. This was a man who fought with steel, not sorcery. Cenred was just a man. And men could be defeated.

Emrys stopped, sending Arthur's guards away with a flick of his hand then relieving Arthur of his chains. A servant was sent stumbling forward, bearing Arthur's sword and as Arthur took it, he felt renewed. This was what he knew, _this_ was his strength.

He twisted the sword about, aiming a few practice thrusts at an invisible opponent, trying to work out the stiffness that came from days of not training and still still in a room with nothing to do. Emrys followed the blade with his gaze and seemed impressed. He then stepped close to Arthur.

"Try not to die too quickly, it'd spoil all the fun," he said with a tight smirk.

"Anything for you, _Sire_ ," Arthur replied, throwing as much condescension into the last word as possibly.

Emrys narrowed his eyes but did not respond and turned away, heading for his seat in the stand.

Arthur moved to stand level with Cenred in the center of the field, meeting Cenred's smirk with a tight smile of his own.

"The fight is to the death," Emrys' voice rang out to them, "until then, no victor shall be crowned."

There was a silence, then - "Begin."

Cenred's blade came swinging towards him, fast and furious. Arthur dodged the blow easily, jabbing back at Cenred's exposed side. Cenred met the blow with a clang of steel on steel and knocked Arthur's sword aside. Regaining his footing, Arthur took a step back, Cenred doing the same and they began to circle, each watching their opponent for the first move.

Predictably, it was Cenred and as Arthur countered Cenred's blow, then stepped forwards on the attack, he began to see a pattern in Cenred's moves. Attack first with big, powerful blows, then block, before attacking again, trying to draw Arthur closer.

Cenred's moves had no precision, no finesse and all it took was for Arthur to change up his response a little --

His attack caught Cenred unawares and Cenred hissed in pain as Arthur's sword sliced across his arm. Cenred looked to the royal box and Arthur spared a glance there also.

Morgana looked tense, her face pale. Emrys' face was unreadable, his eyes shadowed by the canopy. Morgause looked almost bored.

"Worried Cenred?" Arthur asked, slicing towards Cenred's leg as the man looked back to Arthur. Cenred only just managed to parry the blow.

"You're no match for me," he sneered in response, but Arthur smirked as Cenred backed up.

"This? This is only training! Would you like some real fighting Cenred?"

Arthur lunged again, his attacks precise and thought out, Cenred countering his moves as Arthur anticipated, so that when Arthur spun around, Cenred's left side, with his already injured arm, was unprotected and Arthur's blow landed right on his leg.

Cenred staggered, eyes wild for a minute as he lunged crazily at Arthur. Arthur dodged and got ready to land the final blow when everything changed.

He feet were knocked out from under him. To someone watching it might have looked like he slipped but Arthur _never_ slipped.

As his gaze fell upon the royal box he saw Morguase smirking.

Cenred had recovered and brought his blade down on Arthur, Arthur raising his sword to parry it feebly. He scrambled to his feet before Cenred could land another blow, but when he did, his sword slipped and the force of Cenred's blow sent it spinning from his hand.

Cenred landed a punch on Arthur's jaw, knocking him to the ground. In a panic, Arthur looked for his sword. It was _just_ too far away. 

He rolled to avoid Cenred's death blow and when he looked again, he blinked, because surely his blade hadn't been that close before?

Without wasting time thinking about it, he grabbed at his sword and brought it up, just as Cenred lunged forward once more. 

Cenred gasped and collapsed upon the blade, his fingers feebly twitching at the blade embedded in his heart.

He dropped to the ground and Arthur scrambled to the side to avoid him.

Getting to his feet, he dragged his sword from Cenred's chest and then turned to look at the stands.

Morgause was on her feet, but she wasn't looking at Arthur but at Emrys. Emrys was still seated and Arthur thought he saw a ghost of a smile on the man's face. Morgana, still pale, gave Arthur one brief nod, and Arthur felt his heart clench a little.

Maybe she did still care ...

The guards moved forward, taking Arthur's sword from him. He was still dazed, not quite realising his victory.

Then, Emrys was there, refastening Arthur's chains with a wave of his hand.

"Take him to Gauis to check for injuries, then back to my chambers," he instructed the guards.

Arthur looked him in the eye, searching for something, he wasn't sure what.

All Emrys did was nod briefly and watch as the guards took Arthur away.


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur's euphoria at his win was short lived. Instead, a feeling of dread crawled into his stomach. He'd openly defied Morgause and Emrys, he'd shown them plain as day that he was still fighting. But as the thought entered his head that he could have let Cenred beat him, bile rose in his throat. No. Cenred was evil, he'd been an enemy of Camelot for years. Arthur had been right to defeat him.

He still felt cold, however, thinking briefly of how Morgause had taken him down, how close Cenred had come to injuring, or perhaps even killing him. He didn't know if Morgause and Emrys would have let Cenred finish it, he thought they'd had some plan for him. It might be the only thing keeping him alive.

The guards marched him through the castle and he balked at how cold and dark it was. Black tapestries had replaced the bright Pendragon red and soldiers were _everywhere_ , servants scurrying about their work, eyes on the ground. No one was smiling any more. However, as Arthur passed, a found certain eyes met his and his heart unclenched a little as he saw small smiles and nods of encouragement. Word must have spread fast about his victory and he felt a strange sense of pride, in this act he had given the people hope.

When they reached Gaius' chambers, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief at how normal they looked. The space was still cluttered and sunlight seemed to shine in here where it hadn't in the rest of the castle. Gaius was there and Arthur grimaced at his slow movements.

"The king requires you check for injuries," one of Arthur's soldiers spoke out and Gaius moved from his bench. Arthur noticed Gaius wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Would you leave us?" Gaius asked, "I require peace and privacy for practicing my medicine."

The soldier's beside Arthur shifted.

"We cannot leave the prisoner."

"He is chained and I'm sure you'll be waiting just outside the door. I am not defenseless."

"We have been ordered --"

"To let me treat the prisoner." A hint of steel entered Gaius' voice and Arthur saw his eyebrow go up. "Which I cannot do if I am being watched."

The guards practically quailed and Arthur smirked before Gaius' stare was turned on him and he bit back his laugh.

With grumbles and complaints, the guards left, promising to be just outside the door.

As soon as they were gone, Gaius came close, keeping his voice low as he spoke.

"I'm sorry I can't seem more personable, they'll grow suspicious."

"It's fine Gaius. Honestly."

"Keep your voice down. Anyway, about when we last spoke. There may be something I have found."

"What, what is it?" With hope leaping in his heart, Arthur let Gaius lead him to a stool where he proceeded to lift Arthur's shirt, prodding and poking.

Gaius' silence made Arthur irate.

"Your lashes have healed well," Gaius commented and Arthur was sidetracked for a moment, realising he hadn't actually been thinking about his whipping and the wounds. In fact he had healed incredibly well. Almost magically ...

"Gaius, did you use magic to heal me?"

Gaius' hand stilled for a moment but then he simply carried on. "You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you," he said quietly.

"You used magic on the Crown Prince of Camelot, that hand is more likely to be burned on the pyre than be bitten," Arthur snapped.

"I've avoided the flames for many years, Arthur," Gaius replied grimly.

Arthur sighed, burying his hand in his hands. "Sorry. It's just ... hard."

"And you must keep going." Gaius said firmly.

"You said you had something with might help?"

Gaius drew up another stool and sat next to Arthur. "I've seen brief mentions of it before, but it was only once I was really looking ... There's a potion that can temporarily bind a sorcerer's magic."

Arthur's mouth fell open and he was starting to his feet before Gaius put a firm hand on his arm. Dropping back onto the stool, Arthur looked at Gaius incredulously. If such a potion existed, why were they not already making it?

"I know you want to rush into this, but I'm asking for patience. The potion is complicated, I haven't even heard of most of the ingredients."

Arthur swallowed back his disappointment. "But you can make it? It will work?"

Gaius sighed. "Hopefully."

Arthur sat back, trying not to let his frustration show. Focusing on what was good, he reasoned they still had a chance.

The guards arrived shortly after and escorted Arthur back through the castle to his chambers. When he reached them, they were dark and empty. He wondered briefly where Emrys was before the guards left him.

Halfheartedly testing his chains once more, he dropped down into a chair, thinking about everything Gaius had said. He had hope now, and was determined to hold onto it.

* * *

Morgause was angry.

Not that this was anything new for Merlin. Over the years he'd seen the priestess burn people to the ground with just a look - but this was one of the few times she was angry at him.

"How dare you go against me!?"

"We had a plan, Cenred was about to destroy that." Merlin tried to keep his voice steady but his emotions threatened to get the better of him. Unwittingly, he let his magic spark at his fingers, determined to show Morgause he wasn't a child any more.  "We planned that we would break Arthur and then use him against Uther. Killing him doesn't fit with that plan. And anyway, Cenred's idea was rendered useless the moment you used magic against Arthur."

"I would be disgusted with myself if I had done what you did." Morgause was practically spitting. "Our plan is to break him, not save him."

Morgana, in the corner, looked concerned but when she met Merlin's gaze he gave her a stiff nod, showing he was alright. 

"Oh yes, and killing him is going to be so effective." Merlin couldn't help the sarcasm that laced his tone.

"Oh Merlin," Morgause's voice softened, her expression mocking, "is it possible you've begun to care for our young Prince?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Merlin snapped.

"It would be dangerous," Morgause continued, speaking very quietly, but Merlin didn't miss the hint of a threat. "If you were to lose yourself to your emotions."

Merlin stiffened. "I have only ever been loyal to our cause Morgause."

Morgause gave a tight smile. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to make sure."

An invisible force pushed Merlin to his knees. He didn't fight it, he knew it was a test. Instead he maintained eye contact with Morgause, glaring as she stepped nearer. As she stopped in front of him, she placed her fingers of his temples. Merlin flinched at her touch, causing her to smile wider.

"A little reminder, I think, of where your loyalties lie."

Then she entered his mind, and Merlin started screaming.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** This chapter contains some graphic magical violence/torture.

Arthur had fallen asleep as he waited for Emrys to return. His mind kept turning over everything that had happened, everything he had done and everything they had done but he'd eventually drifted off, still not sure why Morgause had been angry at Emrys of all people when he'd managed to kill Cenred.

When he woke, it was dark, the fire not lit and the curtains not drawn, the room only lit by the moonlight which shone through the windows.

Someone was crying.

Arthur got up off his makeshift bed and padded across the room. The crying was coming from behind the bed, gut-wrenching sobs that sounded almost child-like. Arthur's heart clenched at the sound.

As he rounded the end of the bed, however, he bit back a gasp, eyes going wide as he saw the figure there.

It was Emrys. Curled against the bed, he'd got rid of his cloak and was only wearing a thin shirt over his trousers. His head was resting on his knees and his pale hands were grasping his hair whilst his whole body shook with sobs. Arthur bit his lip, wondering at the sight before him because Emrys was his enemy, Emrys was one of the most dangerous sorcerers Arthur knew and yet here, sat in a puddle of moonlight, crying into his hands, he looked little more than a small frightened child.

Arthur was desperate to reach out to him, to hold, to console, but he held himself back.

Emrys was his enemy. Arthur remembered all to well the sting of the magical whip and it flayed his skin, perhaps he should take this moment of defenselessness and use it against Emrys, stick a knife in his back and make his escape. The thought brought bile to Arthur's throat.

Maybe he should just return to his bed, lie down, go back to sleep and pretend this had never happened.

Emrys was a sorcerer. Emrys was evil.

Yet in this moment, Arthur didn't see him as Emrys. He saw him as Merlin.

 _Cut it out, Arthur, you don't even know who_ Merlin _is_ ...

He stood there, locked in indecision and must have waited a second too long as Emrys' head suddenly shot up and he spun round, throwing out a hand, his eyes blazing gold.

Arthur was thrown backwards, slammed against the wall, his head hitting stone and his shoulder jarring painfully against the cupboard next to him. The lash marks on his back sear momentarily before the gold in Emrys' eyes faded and Arthur crumpled to the floor.

"What were you doing?" Emrys' voice was cold and threatening.

"You were ... " Arthur fought to speak, still trying to get his breath back and clenching his teeth at the pain. "You were crying."

"And?"

Arthur bit his lip, refraining from saying anything because he wasn't sure what might come out of his mouth.

"Go back to bed."

It was an order and, if Arthur thought about it, the first Emrys had given.

He slowly got to his feet, wincing in pain and it only took a few steps before he crumpled again, seeing stars and the back of his head throbbing dangerously.

Emrys laughed. "So weak."

Arthur growled through gritted teeth. "I'm not weak," he snapped. "You're the weak one. Hiding behind your magic, crying at night, it's pathetic." He didn't know where the words were coming from but he was just so _angry_. Angry at being beaten and battered, angry at going against Cenred and humiliated because those with magic thought they knew better, angry at having his kingdom taken from him and so very _afraid_ that he may never get it back again. Arthur knew it as well as anyone, when he was afraid, he hid it with anger.

"What did you say?" Emrys' voice was deadly.

"You're pathetic, you're weak, you hide behind your magic, you're nothing." Arthur knew he had pushed too far, _way_ too far.

He was picked up by magic and thrown the length of the room, crashing into the table and biting his tongue to keep back his yell of pain. Blood filled his mouth as Emrys swept across the room.

"How _dare_ you say such things!"

Arthur had to force himself to stand his ground, all too desperate to back away as the sheer ferocity of Emrys' gaze.

"How could you even know? You who persecute my kind. You with your laws that _make_ me nothing. You who've known none of the horrors I have seen, who have never had friends or family taken away from you and burned because of what they were born to be. I am the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth and you, Arthur Pendragon, will fear me!"

Great burning waves of pain rolled up Arthur's body and this time he couldn't hold back the scream as he writhed on the floor. Never mind training, never mind how many wars or battles he'd fought in, nothing compared to this pain.

And it went on. Emrys never let up and Arthur's screams kept tearing themselves from his throat. He wondered briefly, how easy it would be to just give up.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" He barely heard the person shouting but Emrys must have heard because the torture ended. Arthur collapsed back on the floor, shaking with the after effects. He managed to register that it was Morgana in the room, it was Morgana who had shouted.

Emrys had turned to her and she was looking at him, confusion and sorrow in her eyes.

"This isn't you, Merlin," she said quietly. Arthur didn't think he was meant to hear.

Emrys' shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes.

"Go to one of the other chambers. I'll have guards posted." Morgana's softly commanding voice seemed to get through and Emrys left, not looking back at Arthur.

Morgana came to Arthur side and, against his protests, helped him to the bed. He fell onto the mattress like he'd never felt one before and took a moment to pleasure in being back in his own bed.

That was before the pain returned.

Morgana gave him one quick, piercing look, assessing him for something Arthur couldn't fathom and then left without saying a word.

Arthur closed his eyes, furiously brushing away the tears that had settled on his eyelashes.

Whoever Emrys was, whoever _Merlin_ was, Arthur didn't fear him. He pitied him.

 


	11. Chapter 11

As soon as Merlin reached one of the guest chambers, he locked himself inside and leaned back against the door. Closing his eyes, he let out a shaking breath and waited for the visions to subside. They were still plaguing him, even though Morgause's torture had been hours ago and he couldn't get the images out of his head.

Every bad thing that had happened to him played out, over and over, before his eyes.

_Finding out his mother had died._

_Catching Will as he fell, a crossbow bolt through his chest._

_The day he'd gone out by himself and Cenred's men had ambushed him, wanting to take revenge on the boy who had so easily risen through the ranks of Cenred's army._

_The months he'd spent in captivity, his magic bound by chains and Morgause hadn't come._ You have to learn to protect yourself, Emrys. _She'd said it was a punishment for being foolish enough to get caught._

_The moment he'd been on the pyre and he'd seized up in fright, too terrified to use his magic. Morgause had only just answered his pleas for help in time._

He bent over and let out a scream. Somewhere in the room, a vase exploded. A shriek of surprise followed and Merlin jerked his head up, not realising he hadn't been alone.

From around a corner, Gwen appeared, stopping short as she spotted Merlin.

He'd never actually spoken to Gwen, only knew who she was because of her connection to Arthur. She seemed sweet, honest. She reminded him of her mother.

"Sire! My lord, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise anyone was in here. I was just changing the sheets. Although, you probably didn't need to know that. I'll ... I'll just be going now my lord."

Merlin couldn't help the smile at her stumbling response and it eased the ache in his chest.

"It's alright," he broke through her ramblings. "I didn't mean to surprise you. I didn't know you were in here either." _Otherwise I wouldn't have come in here. Otherwise I wouldn't have let you see me breakdown._

"You can go now, Guinevere."

He unlocked the door with a wave of his and and she hurried to it, clutching her basket of dirty sheets to her and seeming to shield herself with it as she walked past him.

 _She's afraid of me_.

It was a bitter thought.

Gwen stopped, however, in the doorway, chewing her lower lip as if making a decision.

"Is there something you wanted to say, Guinevere?"

"I ... I just wanted to ask if you were alright, my lord? You were screaming."

Merlin felt his stomach roll and forced a lid down on his emotions.

"I was merely upset by something, nothing to worry about."

She opened her mouth, then seemed to think better of it. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure how he would have responded, or if he would just have broken down and confessed everything.

What was he thinking? She was a serving girl in his conquered kingdom. He didn't need to answer her questions. Didn't need her sympathy. Didn't need her care or Arthur's or any one else' for that matter.

"I know what you did, yesterday," she blurted out. "You saved, Arthur."

Merlin blinked.

"I'm sorry for speaking out of place sire, but I think you should know - Arthur's a good man. Uther may be a tyrant, but Arthur isn't like him. And you saved him. I thought someone should thank you for that."

A thousand responses came to Merlin's tongue at that. _I didn't save him. It's all part of the plan. He's more use to me dead than alive. I don't need your thanks._

Lies, lies, all of them and none of his words made it past his lips. 

"You should go now, Guinevere," he forced out, resisting the urge to simply slam the door in her face. _I thought someone should thank you for that._

"As you wish sire."

She was gone, off down the corridor, and Merlin closed the door once more, resting his forehead against the wood.

He was a mess.

* * *

Arthur woke with a gasp, his chest seizing up in pain and his fists clenching on the covers. It was past dawn, cool sunshine bathing the courtyard beyond the window and Arthur lay in the bed for a moment, his head spinning a little from pain, before he realised he was in _his_ bed. His own bed. Sighing, he leaned back on the pillows, debating getting up before his mind reasonably pointed out that that was impossible in his current state. 

He'd been a fool. A fool to say those things to Emrys. He knew Emrys was more powerful than he was, knew that with a snap of his fingers Emrys could end his life. And yet ... he hadn't ... _yet_.

Perhaps that was all part of their plan. Lull him into a false sense of security. Make him believe they were close to breaking, because, after the previous night where he'd seen Emrys crying, he'd say the man was already broken.

Why couldn't his enemies be easy to understand?

Mogause seemed pretty obvious in her intent, but why was she so comfortable with sitting back and letting Emrys take the throne? And Emrys he just couldn't fathom out. One moment he was cold as stone, the next, weeping on Arthur's floor and then lashing out. And Morgana? He didn't even know where to start.

He found himself guessing at what they had planned. How they planned to hold onto power. What they planned to do with him.

His thoughts going in circles, he didn't hear the knock on the door and only looked up when he heard a small cough.

"Gwen," he croaked out, annoyed at how feeble he sounded.

"Arthur." She sounded relieved - he wondered how far the sound of his screams must have traveled last night. "How are you?"

She came and sat on the end of the bed and Arthur watched her closely. She seemed more tired than when he last saw her and her hands shook slightly as she smoothed down the covers.

"I shouldn't be here, they'll beat me if they catch me and some of the soldiers are simply horrible but ..." She trailed off into silence, chewing her lip and twisting a loose thread from the blankets between her fingers. "Arthur, you have to keep fighting."

Arhtur looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"The people, they're growing restless. Morgause and Emrys care little for them and there are murmurings, rumours ... When you beat Cenred the other day, it gave them hope. Of course, you didn't beat him all by yourself but every time they see you, every time they see you still fighting, it helps them to keep fighting too."

"Wait ... but I did beat Cenred on my own, didn't I?"

Gwen's head shot up, her eyes round. "You didn't know?"

"Didn't know what?"

"Well ... he, Emrys, he helped you. He moved the sword so you could reach it."

"He what?!"

"Guinevere, do you have any particular reason to be in here other than palace gossip?"

Neither of them had noticed Emrys enter the room and Gwen went pale as she got hastily to her feet. Arthur's chest twinged in pain.

"No, my lord. I'm sorry, my lord. I'll be leaving now."

She hurried from the room without a backwards glance. A silence settled over the room after she'd gone.

"Is it true?" Arthur didn't know if he would dare say it until the words were out of his mouth.

"Does it matter?" came Emrys' cryptic response.

Arthur swallowed hard. Despite his thoughts the previous night, the memory of Emrys' torture and the residual pain he was still feeling, made him more than a little afraid at what Emrys might do.

"You can rest for today, I'll have Gaius bring you something to recover. Then you're to work on the training fields, aid my soldiers."

"That's servants work," Arthur said, then realised the joke his words were.

Emrys raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think you are anything more than a servant?"

 _Play the game, let them think they've won. Bide your time_. More than ever now, Gaius' words were important.

"Nothing," Arthur said and added hastily, "Sire."

"Very good." A small smirk was on Emrys' face. "I'll see you tomorrow, I expect you to serve me for dinner."

"Yes, Sire."

With that, Emrys was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Original Character Death and violence.

Gaius arrived at sundown, his emotions masked as he gave Arthur a tonic for the pain and then something else to help him recover his strength.

Emrys waited in the room, foiling any attempts they could have made to have a conversation and Arthur had to hold his frustration down because he _had_ to know how far Gaius had got with forming the potion. Something that bound a person's magic would be invaluable. He could thwart Emrys and Morgause and bring his father back to Camelot.

It gave him hope, fragile and unsure as it was, that perhaps they would find a way out of this.

Gaius finished, leaving a third tonic beside the bed for Arthur to take the next morning. Desperate to find out how the physician was getting on, Arthur reached out and grabbed Gaius' wrist.

"You said the other day you were working on something more powerful," he said, choosing his words carefully, "but you didn't have all the ingredients - how are you getting on?"

Gaius' calm expression faltered for a moment but he was turned away from Emrys so it didn't show. Arthur forced himself not to look at Emrys, his story could be seen through too easily.

"As well as could be expected. I have most of the ingredients now but it will take time to be prepared."

Arthur swallowed back his disappointment. The longer they waited the stronger Emrys' hold on the kingdom became.

"And it will work?" he asked, trying to show Gaius just how much he was relying on him in a look.

"If all goes well," was Gaius' cryptic response and Arthur sighed, dropping Gaius' wrist and nodding.

"Thank you, Gaius, that will be all," Emrys cut in.

Gaius gathered his things and, giving Emrys a low bow, left the room.

Arthur tried hard not to fidget.

"If you wanted something more powerful, you need only ask. I'm sure magic is much more effective than any potion Gaius' could create." Emrys' comforting smile was far too genuine for Arthur's liking.

He frowned. "You were the one who gave me the injury - why would you want to cure me?"

Emrys blinked, for a moment seeming lost. He then shrugged. "Just an offer," he responded.

Arthur was confused and determined to find some footing because his enemy shouldn't be giving him help, this wasn't how it was meant to work.

"I would never accept help from a sorcerer," he snapped back.

Emrys' face darkened. "Magic has always been a part of your life. You say you would not accept help from a sorcerer and yet with magic you would not even have been born!"

Arthur was taken aback, his mouth open in a question because Emrys _must_ be lying.

"Without my magic Cenred would have slaughtered you the other day and yet you still think you could survive without it!"

Arthur wanted to point out that had it not been for magic in the first place he most likely _would_ have won, but at the same time he was lost for words because Emrys had admitted to saving him.

"You're arrogant and deluded and one day you'll understand that your kingdom is nothing, _nothing_ , without magic."

Emrys swept from the room and Arthur could practically _see_ the anger rolling off him in waves.

He himself, however, was completely lost.

 _Your_ kingdom ...

* * *

Whilst Emrys proved to be nothing more than a source of confusion for Arthur, the soldiers the next day were not. Their intent was perfectly clear.

Emrys instructions upon leaving Arthur at the training grounds were simple. He was to help the soldiers - Emrys called them knights but Arthur couldn't think of anyone _less_ noble - and follow the orders of the commander.

Arthur had met the commander before. He had fought against him when Emrys' army took Camelot and had nearly beaten him. The commander seemed to have taken that personally.

"Perdragon, bring the shields over."

The soldier's shields were larger than Camelot's, heavier and hard to handle. Arthur could only just manage to lift three at a time and there were more than thirty in the pile by the tents. By the time he had moved them to where the soldiers were training, he had sweat pouring from his brow and all the soldiers had done was to jeer and mock him.

"Actually, we'll move on to mace work, we practiced defense tactics yesterday."

Arthur ground his teeth, setting his shoulders as he pushed a lid down on his frustration. What was he to expect? He just had to keep calm and get on with it.

The maces were easier, only two crates to move and once he was done, he was able to stand back, as the soldiers began their training.

Watching them gave him some satisfaction. They had no finesse, no technique. They were all just men swinging maces, releasing pent up aggression. It was some wonder Camelot had fallen to men like these, but these men had magic on their side.

The day wore on, the sun rising high. It was hot and the heat did nothing to dissipate the soldiers' aggression. Arthur's only saving grace was that Emrys had removed his chains. The freedom to move, to be outside was a blessing.

He spotted Gwen once, moving fast with a basket of laundry, her head down and ignoring the cat-calls of the soldiers. Arthur's stomach twisted. So this was what Camelot had become.

"Pendragon! Set up the targets!"

The targets were heavy and Arthur felt a twinge of guilt for the times when he'd pushed his manservant too hard. Another blow was that he realised he hadn't even thought of his manservant since the attack. George was effective, if a little dull and Arthur would never wish harm on him.

Hefting the targets into position against their wooden stands, he had only just moved out of the way when a dagger flew past his ear and landed heavily in the wood.

He jumped and there was laughter. Squaring his shoulders he turned back to face the soldiers.

"Is that the best you can do?" he asked, his tone mocking, all sense of self preservation gone.

The soldiers' laughter quietened and Arthur saw shifting among them, some reaching for their swords.

"You think you can do better?" the commander responded, his face set in a snarl.

Arthur pulled the dagger from the wood by his head.

"I can prove it."

The commander gave a twisted smirk and turned to wave the soldiers back a few paces. He then took daggers from his belt and offered two of them to Arthur.

"Best of three shots?" he asked and Arthur nodded, part of him wondering if this was the right thing to do. But, he reasoned, this was an opportunity to discredit their commander. Troops who didn't respect their leader were nothing more than wild men running into battle.

Clenching his teeth, he turned to face the target.

The dagger was slightly heavier than the ones he was used to using but he wasn't put off. The breeze was light and the sun thankfully out of his eyes as he took the proper stance and let the dagger fly. It flipped through the air, landing neatly just to the left of the center.

He heard mutterings behind him but didn't look back, he needed to keep his focus.

The commander threw next, his dagger landing just above Arthur's and slightly further away from the center.

Swallowing, Arthur took a moment to savour the victory, then stepped up to take his next shot.

Just as he threw, one of the soldiers behind him burst into a fit of coughing. Startled, his shot went wide, landing far off center.

There was laughter this time but Arthur still didn't turn. Whether the coughing had been on purpose or not he couldn't let his frustration show.

The commander took his next shot, the blade landing with a heavy thunk practically right in the middle of the target. He smirked in Arthur's direction and Arthur grit his teeth. 

His last throw was perfect, the blade burying itself right in the middle of the target and Arthur couldn't help the small smile of victory. 

"Alas, you have won, I cannot best that," the commander sighed, flipping the final blade in his hand. "Remove the blades from the target."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. The commander merely smiled.

" _Please_."

Unable to disobey the order - part of him fearing Emrys' wrath if he did, still not fully recovered from the torture - he went to the target, pulling the blades out with a practiced ease.

It was as he went to remove the last blade, his own which had gone astray, that it happened.

A brief whistling was all he registered before pain lanced through his hand. The commander's final dagger was buried through the back of his hand and in a whirl of confusion and pain, Arthur dragged it out, spinning as he did so and sending it right back at his attacker.

His aim was true. The commander sank to his knees, hands groping at his throat where the dagger was embedded, his eyes wide with shock.

For a moment, everything was still for Arthur.

Swords were drawn all around him and shouting brought him back to the moment, sick realisation hitting him in a wave.

The pain in his hand spiked.

"Leave him!" A sharp voice rang out over the training field and Arthur saw Emrys approaching, only then working out he was surrounded by angry men, their blades outstretched.

There was muttering among the soldiers but they stepped back at Emrys' command.

"Come," Emrys ordered Arthur, waving his hand and the chains reappeared in a flash, looping round his wrists. Blood trickled down Arthur's arm but he paid it little attention as he followed Emrys.

"He killed Americk, Sire. He killed my brother!" The hoarse shout stopped them and Emrys turned, Arthur with him, searching out the man who had spoken.

The man in question stepped forwards from the group, his eyes blazing with anger. "He cannot go unpunished - I will not ... I would kill him, Sire."

Emrys nodded slowly. "And he will not go unpunished," he responded, his words sending a chill down Arthur's spine. "Do not fear Joderick, you will have your revenge."

Joderick nodded, his dark glare, burning into Arthur.

"Come," Emrys said again, "you're to serve me at dinner and cannot do so a cripple."

Arthur swallowed, desperate to ask what his punishment might be but guessed the dangers of doing so. Emrys did not meet his eyes as they left the training ground and headed back to the castle.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [Val_Creative](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative) for your encouragement.

Their return to Arthur's chambers was silent. Arthur's hand was burning and he felt weighed down by what he had done. So much for playing the game. He shouldn't have let his emotions get the better of him, shouldn't have let the soldiers rile him up. He'd seen how easily Morgause and Emrys could lash out. How easy it might be for them to decide they didn't want to keep him alive any more.

Laying down his life for his kingdom was something he had long ago accepted he might have to do, but throwing away his life simply because he couldn't keep his anger in check was pointless. He had a duty to his people and he couldn't help them if he was dead.

Emrys entered the room ahead of him and waited until the doors had been closed behind Arthur by the guards on the other side, before turning to face him.

“Show me your hand.” His expression was unreadable as he examined the wound. He then closed his hand over Arthur's and took a breath. Realising what he was going to do a moment before he did, Arthur jerked back.

“No,” he said firmly.

Emrys raised an eyebrow. “I'm trying to heal you,” he responded.

“Not with magic. Don't even think about it.”

Arthur knew the irony of his words seen as Gaius had cured him with magic only days before, but he couldn't bring himself to let Emrys use his magic on him. It seemed too intimate, too trusting, like it would be letting down a barrier between them.

“You might …” he struggled for an excuse, “enchant me or something.”

Emrys snorted. “Arthur, the amount of time we have been in each company since we met means I would have had ample opportunity to _enchant_ you.” The way he said it made Arthur shiver. “And yet I have not. Now give me your hand, your King commands it.” 

Swallowing hard and biting his tongue to prevent himself from saying something he would regret, Arthur once again gave his hand to Emrys.

Folding their hand's together, Emrys took a breath and his eyes began to glow gold.

“ _Hælan_.”

Fighting the urge to tear his hand away from Emrys' as fast as possible, Arthur watched as bright tendrils of light appeared from thin air and wrapped themselves around his hand.

A strange sense of awe gripped him and he forgot all about fighting Emrys off. This wasn't like the magic Emrys had used when he'd whipped Arthur, or when he'd tortured him, this was warm, pure and calming. A strange pressure seemed to build behind his eyes and for a wild moment, Arthur thought he might break down. But then Emrys let his hands fall away and reality swamped him once more.

The skin on his palm was unblemished, all sign of the wound gone and the pain and blood had vanished. His hand seemed to tingle slightly as Arthur looked at it disbelievingly.

He raised his eyes to meet Emrys' gaze and found something he couldn't quite fathom out in Emrys' expression.

A heavy silence sat between them before Arthur swallowed past the lump in his throat and gave a cough.

“Thank you.”

Emrys didn't respond, only narrowed his eyes slightly before moving towards the door.

“Come, you are to attend me at dinner.”

* * *

Taking his seat at the head of the table, Merlin nodded to acknowledge Morgana and Morgause and inspected the array of dishes before him.

The castle kitchens were of the highest quality and after years of living in makeshift camps, eating what they could catch or going for days on end without food at all, Merlin often found the food too rich, his stomach longing for the easy, simple fare he and his mother had shared.

These pangs of homesickness were nothing new to him. He'd fought against Morgause to return to his mother for years after he had joined her. His pleadings were always met with fierce, harsh reminders of what exactly it was they were fighting for. And then, after his mother died, he'd had no home to return to. He hadn't even been able to attend the funeral, they'd been stuck in the middle of a battle on Camelot's eastern border at the time. When the battle had been fought and won, he'd gone to Lake Avalon, casting a pale white rose onto the water before setting it alight as it drifted into the mist.

He suddenly found that what little appetite he'd had had completely disappeared.

“Is everything alright, my lord?” Morgause asked, her sympathetic smile a little too wide for Merlin's liking.

“Yes,” he responded shortly and tapped his goblet. After waiting for a moment, he twisted in his seat to look pointedly at where Arthur was having a murmured conversation in the corner with Gwen.

“Arthur,” he said sharply, enjoying how much the prince jumped. Merlin raised his eyebrows in amusement before once again tapping his goblet. “I require serving.”

Arthur's eyes widened for a moment and Merlin was hit with the realisation that Arthur had never done this before. He'd been waited upon all his life and never truly learned what the servants did for him.

It took a reassuring push from Gwen before Arthur came over, a jug of wine in his hand.

“I heard there was a disturbance on the training grounds earlier,” Morgause said and none of those seated at the table missed how Arthur's hand shook over pouring the wine.

Merlin nodded, watching as Arthur fought to keep his expression neutral, moving on to fill Morgause and Morgana's goblets.

“A suitable punishment will be dealt, no doubt?” Morgause looked pointedly at Merlin.  
“Of course,” Merlin responded evenly, taking a drink. The wine burned the back of his throat and replacing his goblet, he began to pick at the food before him, remembering how earlier that day he'd walked past starving children on the street. He pushed his plate away, feeling sick.

“Guards,” he called, “escort my servant back to my chambers.”

Arthur looked surprised but didn't resist, leaving the wine jug on the table before letting the guards lead him from the room.

“Guinevere, you are also dismissed,” Merlin said.

Gwen shot Morgana a questioning look, but quickly bowed and left.

Once they were alone, Merlin turned to the two women, focusing his mind on what needed to be done. It was easier to think on his hatred of the Pendragons, than thoughts of starving children.

“I'd prefer not to punish him,” he said, “I feel I'm getting through to him. Soon we'll be able to turn him to our cause.”

Morgana narrowed her eyes at his statement, but Morgause gave a soft laugh.

“Oh Emrys, you're a fool to think the prince will ever turn,” she said. “His loyalty to his father is too strong, his hatred of magic too deep.”

_It didn't seem like that earlier_ , Merlin thought to himself but kept quiet. 

“Then what do you suggest?” he asked.

“Beyond Camelot, Uther grows stronger every day. And whilst his forces will never be strong enough to defeat us … the people grow restless. Whilst Arthur still walks among them, his pride not wavering, they will not turn to us. We must break him down and whilst I commend you for the work you have done … it's not happening fast enough.”

Merlin clenched his jaw, knowing the truth in Morgause's words.

“I suggest,” Morgause leaned forward, her eyes alight with an idea, “we resort to more _convincing_ methods. Let the prince know whom exactly he has angered.” 

Merlin was about to object but Morgana beat him to it.

“Arthur will never break from physical pain,” she said, “he's too stubborn. He does have one significant weakness however.”

Both Morgause and Merlin turned towards her expectantly.

“He cares too much for the people around him. Harm the people he cares for, and let Arthur know it is _his_ fault … he'll be one his knees and begging for mercy.”

Merlin swallowed, the ice in Morgana's voice was deadly.

Knowing he may soon regret this, he sat back ins his seat, taking up his goblet of wine again.

“Who exactly did you have in mind?”

 


	14. Chapter 14

The guards left Arthur in his room and for a few moments, he simply stood still, letting everything that had happened wash over him.

He began pacing, trying to get his thoughts in order before he ended up at the window. Darkness was just beginning to claim the sky and as he looked out he could see the flickering lights of houses in the lower town.

It occurred to him then, that he was alone in the room and he wasn't trying to escape.

Letting his head thud against the glass, he closed his eyes, attempting to sort his whirling thoughts into order. The obvious thing for him to be doing in this moment was taking out the guards on the other side of the door – he was fairly certain they had no magic – gaining himself a weapon and escaping the city. There would be a blacksmith in a nearby village who could remove his chains, he reasoned, and then he would head to his father.

Except … he was still here.

He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to think. He told himself he could still feel his palm tingling from Emrys' magic and absently mindedly rubbed at it with the thumb of his other hand.

For some inexplicable reason, he couldn't bring himself to leave. It wasn't just the duty he felt to stay in Camelot, it was something else.

Debating for a moment whether Emrys actually _had_ enchanted him, he frowned. No, that wasn't it, but it was something to do with Emrys. He felt a strange connection to the man, more than that, a bond. A line stretched between them, taut as a crossbow's string. A line so taut it might at any moment shatter and break. But something was keeping them together.

Unbidden, a single word whispered inside his head.

_Destiny._

He shook his head fiercely and opened his eyes once again, tugging on the chains around his wrists. Emrys had captured him, taken his kingdom, tortured him, humiliated him … The man was a sorcerer and sorcerers brought only chaos and evil. That was what he'd always been taught.

As if in response, his hand tingled once again.

He rubbed a hand across his eyes, sagging inwards and leaning back against the wall. Captivity was taking its toll and whilst he was physically fit, it was the incessant mind games that caught him off his guard. Had he been asked, before the attack, what a sorcerer would do if they captured him, he would have said, torture, brutality and death. But this …

He set his jaw, watching as the last rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon. It was his duty to restore peace to Camelot, to restore his father to the throne. From now on he would not waver from his task.

Going over to his pile of rugs on the floor, he reached underneath and pulled out the breakfast knife that he had been keeping since the attack.

He had a feeling he would be needing it soon.

* * *

The next afternoon, evening sunlight sent streams of golden light pouring through the throne room windows, puddling in pools of colour from the stained glass. Letting his gaze wander over the splashes of colour on the floor, Merlin assumed a facade of general indifference and took his seat in the throne. The assembled nobles were murmuring amongst themselves, wondering why they had been summoned. Morgause was smirking and Morgana looked cold. Arthur, at the side of the room with a guard on either side of him was glaring at Merlin, eyes narrowed, clearly trying to work out what his plan was.

Oh if only he knew, Merlin thought wryly. The young prince _would_ be surprised.

“Bring in the prisoner,” Morgause called out, and the room fell silent, all eyes turning to the doors.

Merlin felt Arthur's eyes slide off him and he shifted in his seat slightly, not sure if he could really do this.

The doors opened and there were gasps of surprise. A group of four soldiers entered, Gaius in the centre of them. He still stood tall, however. His face was impassive as the soldiers came to a stop and then moved to the edge of the room, leaving him alone.

“My lord,” he said slowly, bowing to Merlin. “My ladies,” he inclined his head to Morgana and Morgause, but his gaze never left Merlin. “I was wondering why I have been summoned here?”

“You were not given permission to speak, physician,” Morgause broke in, but Merlin silenced her with a flick of his hand.

Getting to his feet, he buried any emotion he had and stepped towards Gaius.

“Gaius, you stand accused of aiding the restoration of the tyrant Uther and harbouring loyalties to the Pendragons – crimes punishable by death. How do you plead?”

In the corner, Merlin saw Arthur shift.

Gaius kept his face remarkably still. “I have served your cause faithfully, sire. The accusations are false.”

“You have served the Pendragon court for several years, Gaius. You have seen many of our kind put to death.”

“I have saved every life I could,” Gaius responded gravely.

“You have been in a position to end the life of Uther Pendragon countless times in your role as physician, yet you have failed to do so.” Merlin paced to the left slightly, mainly so he could keep Arthur in his line of sight. He needed to know the moment Arthur worked it out.

“There are many ways to bring about peace, it is my belief that violence and murder are not one of those ways.” Gaius raised an eyebrow and regarded Merlin cooly. Merlin was silently impressed by Gaius' smooth responses, however, Morgause and Morgana had not constructed their plan just for Gaius to talk his way free.

“These were found in your chambers,” Merlin reached into his robes and pulled a bundle of letter out. “Letters of correspondence to Uther, planning for his reinstatement on the throne.”

“They are fakes, I have had no such discussion with Uther, I do not even know where he is.” It was obvious in Merlin's eyes that in that moment, Gaius was telling the truth. He himself knew the letters were fakes Morgause had conjured the previous night. However, whilst the nobles were shifting uncomfortably, no one was speaking out. No one was going to move to stop it.

“Your lies will not save you. I declare you a traitor to your king and kingdom for conspiring to overthrow your monarch and aiding enemies of the throne. I hereby sentence you to death.”

On his last word, Merlin flicked his eyes over to Arthur and watched as it slotted into place in the prince's mind.

“No you can't do this!” Arthur shouted out, moving at the same time. “I was me who did wrong, you shall not punish him!”

Arthur had lunged forward, hand reaching for something at his hip, a sword perhaps that was not there, his eyes wild in a panic.

Morgana had been right. Arthur truly did care for the people close to him.

The soldiers had moved to stop Arthur but they weren't fast enough. Merlin saw the flash of a blade. With a flash of his eyes, he froze time and everything stopped in its tracks.

Turning where he was stood, Merlin looked to Gaius, the only other not frozen in the time-stop.

“What …?” Gaius looked confused.

“You knew my mother,” Merlin said, speaking before Gaius could get his question out. “She spoke of you when I was young.”

“You're … you're Hunith's boy?”

The sound of his mother's name brought stinging tears to Merlin's eyes. He nodded.

“I … I did think you might be. But I dared not ask.” Gaius looked trapped, halfway between

wanting to reach out, and afraid of what might happen if he did.

Merlin was stuck too, longing so much for the welcome of a caring embrace, but truly terrified of how far he might fall if he let go of the shadow of a world he had built around himself.

He acted before his emotions got the better of him and stepped towards Gaius, pulling a large gem on a chain from within his robes and pressing it into Gaius' hand.

“Take this, and escape, but only when I release the time-stop. I'll provide a distraction … or at least, Arthur will.” He glanced back towards where the prince was leaping forward, anger etched on his face. The sight made Merlin shiver.

“Why … but, I don't understand.” Merlin couldn't help but notice Gaius was looking between him and Arthur, a strange expression on his face.

“This was Morgana's plan,” Merlin sighed. “They hope to break Arthur, and … were going to use your death against him.”

“But you're …”

“I'm not letting it happen,” Merlin replied, gritting his teeth.

“Why?”

Merlin drew back, dreading how close he could come to breaking down. He wasn't entirely sure why this change had come over him. Perhaps it was the way Morgause had invaded his mind, perhaps it was the way he could see how much Morgana had changed and he was so saddened for how cold her heart was becoming, perhaps it was because of Guinevere, who had gone beyond her fear and told him she was thankful, or maybe it was the look of awe and trust in Arthur's gaze when he had allowed Merlin to heal him.

Maybe he wanted that again … to heal and not to harm.

Maybe he was sick of the shadow of death which had haunted him from the day he had left his quiet, peaceful life in Ealdor.

“There are many ways to bring about peace,” he spoke at last, sending Gaius' words back to him because he didn't trust what might come out of his mouth otherwise. “Perhaps violence and murder are not one of those ways.”

The physician raised an eyebrow, seeing through Merlin's impassive facade.

“A wise being once told me that you are destined for great things, Merlin.” The sound of his old name on Gaius' tongue was a blow to Merlin's gut. “Believe me when I say that the boy from Ealdor knew in his heart that what you have just said is true. And it is not too late to go back and try again.”

Merlin froze, a lump stuck in his throat and tears hanging on his lashes.

“Go,” he said hoarsely.

Gaius nodded and hung the crystal around his neck, clutching it with one hand.

“I hope we meet again some day,” Gaius said solemnly.

Merlin gave a short nod before resuming the spot where he had been standing and turned away from Gaius. Giving himself a brief moment to compose himself, he straightened his back and blinked away his tears.

His eyes flashed golden and reality came flooding back.

Arthur finished his leap, staggering to a stop, the knife inches from Merlin's neck, as with a swirl of wind and a flash of light, Gaius disappeared from view.

The room fell deadly still.


	15. Chapter 15

Arthur couldn't breathe. It had all happened so fast. In the moment he had taken his eyes off Gaius, he'd vanished.

“What just happened?” Morgause' voice was deadly, her eyes on Emrys and Arthur didn't have to imagine the sparks of magic in her eyes.

“He had a crystal,” Morgana spoke up, “a crystal round his neck.”

“I don't remember seeing it when he came in,” Morgause cut in sharply. “In fact I don't believe I saw it until just now.”

“What are you suggesting, Morgause?” Emrys' voice was smooth, but as Arthur focused on him, he frowned. Something was off. Arthur could see faint redness around Emrys' eyes and his back seemed stiff. The look of surprise on his face at Gaius' disappearance didn't look quite … _genuine._

Morgause seemed to reign in whatever she had been about to say but she looked deeply suspicious and anger was bubbling off her.

“Well … if we can't punish him …” she tried to collect herself. “The prince still stands accused of murder. A punishment must be dealt.”

Arthur tensed, aware of eyes turning toward him and the guards who had been standing beside him moving forward to restrain him.

It had taken him longer than he would have liked to understand what game Emrys and Morgause were playing. He was aching from the realisation that they were prepared to use the people he cared about against him, that they were prepared to kill them.

What could Arthur have done? What would he have done if Gaius had been led to the pyre? He was defenceless against these people – against the power they wielded. What good was he? A prince who had lost his kingdom, fighting with nothing but a breakfast knife. What hope did the people have? What could he do to stop Morgause and Emrys as one by one they led Arthur's closest friends - his people - to their deaths and he could only stand by and watch? How soon would it be before they turned on Gwen? On Leon in the dungeons?

The mantle of defeat suddenly weighed heavy on his shoulders.

Gaius had said he needed to appear weak, appear defeated.  _Let them think they've won_ . It wouldn't be hard now … 

And, with one final, crashing blow, he realised Gaius was gone. He'd left Arthur. How was Arthur to create the potion to block the sorcerers' magic? He now had nothing to defeat them with.

It was over.

“I believed Gaius to be many things,” Morgana spoke out. Arthur wasn't sure how much had gone on whilst the whirl of thoughts went round his head but he was grounded once more as the guards on either side of him took hold of his forearms, and from nowhere, his chains reappeared and fastened around his wrists. “But I never thought he was a coward.”

Arthur looked up at Morgana, biting his tongue and just watching, saddened by how ruthless she seemed to have become.

“This is beside the point,” Morgause snapped, “the prince must have a trial.”

“Tomorrow.” Emrys' voice cracked on the word and faintly, Arthur noticed that his hand, balled into a fist, was shaking. “It is late, I will retire and my manservant must attend me.” His eyes met Arthur's in a challenge but Arthur didn't have the heart to speak out or resist.

“But-”

“That is my wish, Morgause,” Emrys cut through her, his tone brokering no argument. Arthur watched Morgause carefully as she pulled her emotions back and nodded. Maybe he wouldn't need to try and defeat the sorcerers' himself, he thought half-jokingly, they seemed ready to backstab each other to that end anyway.

“Arthur, come.”

Athur pulled free of the soldiers grasp and followed Emrys from the hall.

**OOO**

They had returned to the chambers in silence and it was without protest that Arthur went to his pile of rugs, stowing the breakfast knife – which everyone seemed to have forgotten – underneath them once more, and fallen into a fitful sleep. It was much later, well into the night, that Arthur woke from his slumber to, once again, the sound of Emrys crying. 

The sobs were stifled this time, as if Emrys was aware he could wake Arthur and, as Arthur raised himself into a sitting position he saw that Emrys was still in his bed, one of the pillows over his head.

He felt the blade of the breakfast knife dig into his palm from under the rugs.

“You should be careful,” he said, speaking out, not out of daring, but because he simply didn't _care_ anymore. “Your enemies might think you weak.” 

Emrys started, shooting up in bed to look at Arthur, his hand half raised.

For a moment, they both simply sat, waiting in the darkness for one or the other to break the silence.

“My enemies would be fools,” Emrys responded hoarsely, lowering his hand. “You've seen what I can do, _felt_ it.”

“I'm wounded,” Arthur replied, putting a hand over his heart in mock offence. “You see me as an enemy, when all I do is to make sure my master is safe.”

Emrys narrowed his eyes. “Don't mock me,” he hissed.

Arthur snorted. “Believe me, it's gone well beyond that.”

It was like the last time, that Arthur had caught Emrys crying. His sense of caution went out the window because Gaius had gone and the way ahead seemed so very bleak. His emotions got the better of him. Not fear this time, but helplessness.

“Especially when I know things. About you.”

Emrys raised an eyebrow. “Well doesn't that make me scared,” he said, sarcasm thick in his tone.

“Like how recently, you've been saving your enemies more often than slaying them.”

It was a jump, a conclusion that Arthur couldn't be sure of, but that everything pointed to. Emrys had saved him when he'd fought Cenred. Was it too much of a ridiculous idea that he'd saved Gaius too?

“You saved Gaius,” Arthur stated, watching for Emrys' reaction.

For a long time, Emrys was still, his face pale, his hands clenched in fists on the covers of the bed. He was quiet for such a long time that Arthur almost thought he'd got it wrong. That he'd made a mistake. That whatever he'd seen in Emrys after Gaius had vanished had just been symptoms of shock. Then, Emrys spoke.

“I did.”

Arthur swallowed hard. “Why?”

Emrys lifted his chin. “I thought you said you _knew things_ , Arthur.”

“There's something about you, though,” Arthur replied, tilting his head on one side. “Something I can't quite put my finger on.”

Emrys let a tentative smirk onto his face. “I'm a mystery.” He shrugged and lay down, rolling away so Arthur couldn't see his face.

Arthur flopped back onto his rug and ran a hand over his face because he couldn't figure Emrys out. He couldn't understand the man's motives. How one moment he was condemning people to death, the next, saving them. One moment torturing people, and the next, healing them. One moment, hard as iron, the next, crying like a child in the night.

Morgause seemed more and more obvious in her intent as time went on, Emrys became even more unfathomable.

Arthur's gut clenched as he wondered about what Morgause could possibly have planned and he felt a brief, rushing protective urge over Emrys … No. Over _Merlin_.

He squashed it before he could follow that route much further. If he were to restore his father to the throne, he couldn't harbour _feelings_ for Emrys, or Merlin – whoever he may be.

He couldn't deny, however, that as helpless as the way ahead seemed, there was something in _Merlin_ that gave him hope.

Resisting the urge to bash his head against the wall, Arthur rolled over, banished all conflicting thoughts from his mind, and was soon asleep.

 


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, when they woke, everything had changed. Scouts had come in from the Eastern border reporting that Uther had seized Cenred's kingdom, and was amassing an army. Arthur's trial was set back as an emergency council was held.

Merlin watched Arthur carefully from his position at the council table. Arthur was tense, filled with a clear desire to do something but burying it away, keeping it hidden whilst his enemies were close.

It was funny for Merlin to think that when they had first captured Arthur, they had planned to break him. Foolishly, Merlin had thought he could try. Could attempt to worm his way into the Prince's affections, change his views on magic, turn him against his father … But there was too much fire in Arthur's heart, too much love for his kingdom. Merlin was a sorcerer, and no matter what little headway he had made with the Prince, he was nothing in Arthur's eye compared to his precious Camelot.

The realisation was a cold blow which he was sure wasn't meant to hurt. Of course Arthur hated him. Of course Arthur would never turn to him. He was a sorcerer, had taken Arthur's kingdom. He'd been sentenced to death from the day he was born and Arthur had been born to wield the axe.

Merlin just wasn't sure why he _cared_ so much.

“My lord?”

Morgause brought him from his reverie, her eyes narrowed a little as she glanced between Merlin and Arthur. The council had gone quiet and and all eyes were on Merlin. He cleared his throat, reaching for his goblet of wine. Taking a sip, he fought not to grimace as the liquid went down. He'd still not grown accustomed to the rich taste of wine. The bitterness, however, cleared his head a little and he tried to remember what they had been talking about.

“I apologise,” he said, “I lost track of my thoughts.”

Morgause raised an eyebrow, Morgana fidgeted with her bracelet.

“We were discussing whether we should personally level an attack at Uther. Take him now whilst we know where he is, before he gets too strong.”

Everyone was looking at him. Some judging, others hesitant. Merlin wondered how many of them had family members in their army. How many of their sons he would condemn to die if he sent them into war. It made him feel cold that he didn't even _know_.

Being a king, he reflected, had never been his goal. Freedom of magic – yes. Being able to live a safe and normal life – yes. But being king?

It wasn't his destiny. It wasn't right.

He wondered why this was only occurring to him now …

Once again, his gaze drifted to Arthur and he sat up a little straighter.

“We remain in Camelot. The city is our best defence and we'll be more powerful without our army spread across the kingdom.”

There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere at the table. Morgause sat back, a small smirk playing round the corners of her mouth.

“My lord,” one of the nobles spoke out. Merlin seemed to recall the man had a little magic of his own and since Camelot's downfall had been using it to charm women to his bed. He bit his lip to prevent an outburst. “Surely it would be better to take Uther head on. He knows the city well--”

“My decision is final,” Merlin replied, letting the smallest sparks of magic tinge his irises. The noble deflated but Merlin didn't miss how his eyes shot to Morgause before he sat back.

Merlin got to his feet abruptly, beckoning Arthur.

“The council is dismissed.”

* * *

Back in their chambers – and since when had his chambers become shared in Arthur's eye? - Arthur found it would have been hard to miss the sag in Emrys' shoulders, or the way he turned his body away from the room, heading to the window to stare out at the city, unseeing.

His mouth felt dry but he licked his lips, determined to say something, drawn by the fragility he saw in Emrys – no, _Merlin_ – now. Something tugged in his heart, and sorcery be damned, something was hurting Merlin, _had_ been hurting him for a long time and Arthur couldn't let it carry on.

He cared, he realised in an uncomfortable, blinding recognition. Cared far too much.

“That was … a brave decision you made back there.” Arthur's voice was weak and hoarse, but Merlin still flinched at the sound.

“You don't need to brag,” he responded, not taking his eyes away from the window. “I know it'll be easier for your father, staying here.”

“I wasn't … I wasn't bragging.”

Merlin let out a soft, derisive laugh. “I can see it. They're all thinking it. Uther will retake the city. You'll have your kingdom back soon, young prince. You don't need to pretend to like me anymore. I can tell I haven't broken you.”

Arthur swallowed hard and took a step forward. “You've got magic, I'm sure it won't be _easy_ for my father.”

Merlin didn't respond but he leaned more heavily on the window frame.

“My people are hungry and dying. My council is deserting me, my mother's dead, my friend's are gone …” His head dropped and he brought a shaking hand up to press against his mouth. “I'm afraid. I'm so, _so_ afraid. Because what happens when Uther retakes the throne? I'll be executed. Mocked and hated by the crowd before being burned on the pyre.”

He turned his head towards Arthur, eyes glistening with tears. “I don't want to die …”

Arthur's feet carried him to Merlin's side without him even thinking about it and he tentatively reached out.

“I won't let that happen.”

Merlin's gaze met his own, a desperate longing, wanting to trust. His hand reached out to grasp Arthur's.

“You're lying, I'm sure you're lying,” he said but his words had no heat to them. “You're a Pendragon, you want me dead. I stole your kingdom. I've killed, I've lied and cheated and destroyed the world around me. I just wanted to be free and happy and be normal and …” He choked back his tears, frantically wiping at his face with his free hand. “And maybe things were going right and I could've brought magic to Camelot … but I can't do this. I can't be king. I shouldn't be telling you this, it's all gone wrong and I don't know anything any more--”

Arthur silenced him with a kiss.

He couldn't get it right in his head. Why? Why when the whole world seemed to be against them had they still inexplicably been drawn together? A Pendragon and a sorcerer. A king and his prisoner. A prince and a warlock dancing the line of destiny.

His hand slipped to the small of Merlin's back. Merlin reciprocated, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Arthur's head. They pressed closer, hungry for something they hadn't known they'd needed.

Then all of a sudden, Merlin's hands were on his chest, pushing him back and as Arthur opened his eyes he saw the faintest glimmer of gold in Merlin's eyes. A heavy weight hit in the stomach and he was sent stumbling backward.

“No. No. No, no no no …” Merlin ran a hand across the back of his mouth, mumbling as he stumbled backwards away from Arthur. “You don't get to do that. I'm not weak, I won't be tricked. I can't--”

“It wasn't like that,” Arthur retaliated, a small spark of anger – or maybe fear? - awakening in his stomach because he'd just laid himself bare before Merlin … Emrys – damn it he didn't even know anymore – and … well, nothing. Nothing.

He'd put his trust in a sorcerer. Put his heart on the line. This was the man who'd beaten and tortured him. What had he been thinking?

The chains, which Emrys hadn't made him wear that morning for some reason, flashed into being, once again fastening round his ankle and to the bed.

In a sweep of his cape, Emrys turned to leave and he didn't look back. The door banged shut behind him.

Arthur was alone.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Merlin stopped just outside the door, his heart pounding in his chest and his legs feeling weak beneath him. What had he done? _What had he done_?

His hand found the wall and he leaned against it gratefully. He could still … he could still taste Arthur. On his lips, on his tongue. Still had a burning spark in his gut that longed for more. 

But no. He couldn't. He  _couldn't_ . 

It was all a trick, a trap. Arthur hated him, surely? It was just a plot to make Merlin take his guard down and then for Arthur to seize back the power Merlin had taken from him. And then Merlin would be burned. 

But Arthur had said he wouldn't let that happen. Arthur had said he wouldn't let Merlin die. 

He should have learned from the start not to take anything Arthur said as truth. He was a Pendragon. He hated magic and Merlin hadn't done anything to change that belief. He was supposed to have broken Arthur. He couldn't help but think that Arthur had broken him. 

It was a tangled, confused mess. His heart strained to go back into the room, to give in to Arthur. His head reminded him fiercely of everything Morgause had taught him over the years, everything she had shown him, every magic user ever burned at the stake.

He raised a shaking hand to wipe it across his mouth, straightening his back at the same time. The time Morgause had shown him the murder of an innocent magic user, Morgause's sister, Nimueh, burned in front of his eyes and his gut roiled. That would be him. That would be him if he gave into Arthur. He headed towards the council room on shaking legs. 

Morgause looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly as he entered. She was still sat where she had been at the end of the council session, and more than one of the councillors was sat with her. Their conversation stopped abruptly when they spotted Merlin. One of the men knocked over a goblet in an aborted attempt to reach his sword. 

They feared him, Merlin thought regretfully. They feared and hated him. 

How was he any different from Uther? 

“I want to speak with you,” he said, raising his head and addressing Morgause directly. “Privately,” he added with a glare in the direct of the council members. 

They eventually all left with much whispering and suspicious glances in Merlin's direction. Only Morgana and Morgause remained, the former standing at Morgause's side, her expression slightly worried. 

Evading Morgana's attempts to attract his eye, Merlin stepped forward, curling his fingers over the back of the chair that face Morgause. 

“A … matter has arisen,” Merlin said, his voice hoarse and choked in his throat. “And has escalated out of control.”

“The prince?” Morgause asked, her voice sharp.

Merlin nodded. 

“Well, Emrys, you are powerful. Surely you are able to deal with the situation?” There was something mocking in Morgause's gaze as she stared Merlin down and he dropped his gaze. 

His heart was in his throat because he couldn't help but believe he was doing something wrong. 

“I believe … I believe I have become too _involved_. I … I have let myself get too close.”

“Oh, Merlin …” Morgause's voice was almost kind and it made Merlin jump. She hadn't used his real name in years. “I had feared something like this would happen.” 

Merlin dared a glance up. Morgause's expression was something that might have resembled sympathy. Morgana's face was completely impossible to read. Her lips were pressed in a thin line as if she was holding in some emotion – Merlin could not tell what emotion, however. 

“The Pendragon's are … convincing, when they want to be. Charismatic, powerful. A force to be wary of. Their hatred of magic drives everything they are. Arthur is no different from his father. I could see he was fooling you, I should not have let it get this far.” 

Merlin's grasp tightened over the back of the chair. 

“Arthur would see you burn without a thought, Emrys. His and Uther's desires for power and the eradication of magic are their driving forces. Arthur would not hesitate.” 

Merlin closed his eyes, biting his lip to hold back whatever he might have said in that moment. 

The Arthur Morgause was describing was not the one he knew. Arthur  _had_ hesitated. There had been many times when Arthur could have killed him, could have taken him whilst he was defenceless … but he hadn't. Arthur had said that he wouldn't let Merlin die. 

Shaking his head slightly, Merlin released his grip on the chair and stood straight once again. 

“I'll leave you to deal with the situation, Morgause,” he said and then strode out of the room, not looking back. 

 

* * *

The door creaked open and Arthur shot up from where he had been lying on the bed. His heart sank as he saw it was not Merlin, but Morgana who entered.

He dropped back, covering his eyes with a hand. 

“Come to boast?” he asked. 

“Well I won't say that you're not a fool,” Morgana said, walking further in the room. “Then again, I guess it was bound to happen. It is destiny after all.” 

Arthur let his hand fall away and frowned at her. “What  _are_ you talking about?”

“You. Merlin.” 

“He told you then,” Arthur sighed. 

“He's given you over to Morgause,” Morgana said. 

Arthur's stomach twisted. “And there was me thinking he cared for me,” he said, his voice hollow. 

“He does.” 

Arthur snorted at that. “No, Morgana. He doesn't. I'm a Pendragon, he's a sorcerer, the two don't go together. You're enough of an example.” 

Morgana dipped her head. “I won't lie and say that I don't hate Uther.” 

“But me?” Arthur said up, his hands balling into fists because this was a hurt that went deep. “I don't know why you never told me. We grew up together, Morgana. We were the best of friends … I told you everything. Why did you believe I wouldn't protect you?” 

Morgana had twisted her fingers together. “I was afraid, Arthur,” she said simply. “I'd watched enough executions to know what Uther would do.” 

“And you thought I'd be the same,” Arthur responded bitterly. 

“You're not perfect, Arthur,” Morgana snapped, her voice harder now. “You'd carried out Uther's orders. You'd arrested sorcerers and stood by and watch every single one of them die. Forgive me for not believing you to be my knight in shining armour.” 

Arthur sighed. “And I regret every single innocent death that only I stood by and watched.” 

“I know that now. But for a time … Morgause is my sister, I went to her and she was kind and caring when I needed her. I'd never want to hurt her, but that doesn't mean I agree with everything she does.”

“I guess it's a sibling thing,” Arthur said, meaning for his tone to be lighthearted but it came out more cold. 

“I know you aren't like Uther, Arthur. But I don't think Merlin does.”

“Why does it matter?” Arthur said, throwing up his hands. “He doesn't care for--”

“He does. He's just afraid, Arthur. Like I was. I've known him for a long time now Arthur and I've seen him do terrible, _terrible_ things when Morgause ordered it. He's never questioned her, never regretted it … not until he met you. He's giving up everything he knows for you.” 

Arthur bit his lip. “It can never work, Morgana.”

“Oh for goodness sake, Arthur! Don't you understand? You're the one who can _make_ it work! You didn't … You _couldn_ ' _t_ save me. I wouldn't let you, and what happened after was my fault.” She took a breath, her admission seeming to lift a weight from he shoulders. 

“But you _can_ save him.” She finished firmly.

“And what if I don't want to? He's tortured me, Morgana! He tried to break me. He's beaten and whipped me and … I don't even know if I care for him. If I love him …”

“Arthur.” Morgana's voice was gentle now. “It's destiny. You and Merlin. Pendragon and Emrys. The prophets speak of you. Morgause never let Merlin know, never dared because she fears his power. But she can't stop destiny.” 

“But what if I don't want this destiny?” Arthur asked, feeling all too like he was being backed into a corner. “What if I don't want to be with him?”

“I know you do.” Morgana gave a small, sad smile. “I guess it's a sibling thing.” 

 


	18. Chapter 18

The guards came not long after Morgana had left. Morgause was with them and she freed him from the chain Merlin had conjured and then watched, a satisfied smirk in place, as the guards dragged Arthur from the room.

Merlin was no where to be seen and Arthur ached to know what had happened to him. Part of him wondered if he was now just sitting back, welcoming Arthur's coming torture … but then he remembered the fear, the desperation that had shown as Merlin had let down his barriers and let Arthur in. Merlin had kept so much inside and now it was being torn out of him.

Arthur hoped he was ok.

They dungeons were dark and dank, and there were a shockingly large number of people in them; citizens and knights alike.

Arthur was strengthened as he saw Leon and some of his other fellow knights in one of the cells, looking a little worse for wear, but at least not dead. They spotted him also and the word was clearly passed through the dungeons, Arthur's men coming to the bars to watch as he went past. Some offered verbal encouragement only to fall silent as Morgause followed in Arthur's wake, the rest just remained quiet, their expressions and nods of encouragement enough for Arthur to know he still had their support.

They hit a flight of steps which led into the lower dungeons. They were shrouded in darkness and not a soul was there. The guards dragged Arthur to the middle, passing chains through a loop in the ceiling and securing his wrists in the biting metal.

He could just balance on his toes and when Morgause walked in, he lifted his chin, determined to appear strong.

He hadn't known how to handle Merlin's torture, hadn't known what to expect.

This, however, was entirely different and he prepared to distance his pain from his emotions.

Merlin had dealt with matters of the mind, something Arthur had been ill prepared for. But physical pain he could handle.

Morgause conjured a chair with a flash of her eyes and sat down, lounging back with a smug grin on her face.

Waving her hand she indicated the guards could begin.

“Entertain me,” she purred.

Arthur forced himself to maintain eye contact with her. He didn't even blink as the whip came lashing down on his back.

* * *

 

Merlin made it back to his chambers late that evening and found them cold and empty.

Clenching his teeth together to avoid thinking too much of Arthur, he conjured a fire in the grate and moved to lean on the fire place. The flames flickered and danced before his eyes but he didn't really see them. His mind was elsewhere, in the dungeons where no doubt Morgause was exacting her revenge for the years of the Pendragon crusade on magic.

But Arthur wasn't deserving of their hate, and Merlin bit down on his lip as he tried to hold back the sobs, because he had delivered Arthur to Morgause and it was only now that he was truly coming to terms with just how much Arthur meant to him.

Ever since Morgause had taken him from Ealdor, he'd been trying to work out what his place in life was. Who he was meant to be, what he was meant to do. And over the years things had just become more and more confused until eventually it just came down to killing those who opposed him and fighting endlessly for his so called freedom. Strange how he had that freedom now, yet he'd never felt so trapped.

At the same time though, his time in Camelot had shown him more clearly than ever what it was that he wanted in life. What it was that he needed to be doing.

Helping people, saving lives, letting people in. It all mattered. It all meant so much more than a life ruled by fear and hate.

And Arthur.

Merlin didn't know, couldn't possibly understand what it was about Arthur, but he just felt drawn to him, as if time and place had no consequence, and that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be pulled back.

Arthur hadn't done anything really, but it had been because of Arthur that Merlin had let down all his barriers, had realised his deepest fears … and had now come to terms with the fact that this life he was leading was not the one meant for him.

There was something _more_ waiting for him, it only he could reach out and grasp it. 

_No young man can know his destiny, Merlin …_

_A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole …_

_Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion … but he faces many threats from friend and foe alike … Without you Arthur will never succeed. Without you there will be no Albion …_

_None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin, and none of us can escape it …_

He was on his hands and knees, breaths coming in short, violent gasps. The fire before his flickered and died as visions exploded before his eyes. Camelot standing bright and tall in the summer sun. Arthur crowned with fire and sunlight, standing before his throne. A dragon soaring high in the air.

He blinked and the visions faded. The darkness of the room swept over him but he felt brighter and warmer than he had in years.

After a while his breathing steadied and he pushed himself to his knees.

What had he seen? _What had he seen?_ A future so bright and different to this one that it seemed almost too good to be true.

On shaking legs he got to his feet and headed for the door.

*** * ***

“My lord!” Gwen looked startled when she met Merlin at the door to Morgana's chambers and she looked him up and down, brow creasing in confusion as she took in his white-knuckle fists and trembling chest.

“Guinevere,” Merlin said, “may I see the lady Morgana?”

“Of course, my lord,” Gwen said, backing away from the door to allow him in.

“Merl-- I mean, Emrys--”

Merlin cut Morgana off with a wave of his hand, taking a seat at her table from where she had been about to rise.

“There's no need to pretend any more, Morgana,” he said, letting his weight sag in the chair.

Morgana frowned but didn't say anything, waiting for him to speak as Gwen poured them both a goblet of water.

“She's got Arthur,” he said roughly.

“She's been with him all afternoon,” Morgana replied grimly.

Merlin's gut roiled as he through of what Morgause could be doing to Arthur.

“I had a vision,” he said suddenly, watching intently for Morgana's reaction. “A new Camelot, with Arthur as king and me … me at his side.”

Morgana went from confused, to shocked, to very pale in a matter of seconds.

“You've seen this too?” Merlin asked sharply.

“Don't, oh please Merlin, don't. Morgause forbade me to ever say it.” Morgana got up from her seat, walking to the window, her whole body tense.

“So this is real? This is going to happen? Me and Arthur? I've just given him up Morgana!”

Morgana spun around and Merlin was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

“It's destiny,” she said simply. “Since the dawn of time. Arthur, the once and future king, and Emrys, the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth.”

Merlin choked on his words.

“How long have you known?!”

Morgana pressed a hand to her lips and Gwen moved in.

“My lady, are you--”

“Yes, Gwen. I'm fine, thank you.” Morgana responded. She took a breath and straightened her spine. “Since I came to Morgause. But she's known all her life. That's why she sought you out in the first place.”

Merlin gaped. His whole life was spiralling out of control around him, everything he had known and seen and done, meaningless and horrific, all for Morgause's agenda that he might never see his destiny fulfilled.

“But what about everything I've done? What was it all _for_? What about the innocent lives? Like Nimueh?” He'd never been able to forget that first vision, Nimueh's face forever seared in his memory.

“Nimueh was …” Morgana faltered. “She slaughtered many people, waged war on Camelot and took innocent lives. Whatever she was … she was never innocent.”

Merlin's magic was leaping and writhing inside him. Somewhere in the room, a mirror shattered.

All of it had been pointless. None of it had mattered. It had all gone wrong up until now where he'd been thrown into Arthur's path and destiny was somehow making itself right once more.

_Destiny_ . 

Somehow, it all made sense now.

“But I've … but it's gone wrong!” he said helplessly, tears stinging his eyes. “I've turned him away and handed him over to her! I can't … I won't get him back!”

“My lord--” Gwen said, than she seemed to catch herself. “Merlin.” And her voice had a deep kindness and compassion in it that Merlin had not heard in many years. “In life you always have a choice. Sometimes it's easier to think that you don't. Your choice now, is to fight and win back your destiny or to let it go, to let Morgause win. Arthur is a good man, Merlin. And I can see that truly you are too. This is the time to take a stand for what you _really_ believe in.” 

Merlin looked at her, hot streams of tears in his cheeks and felt a swelling of hope inside him.

Yes, he could. This was his destiny--

His thoughts were cut off by the deep wail of a battle horn.

Morgana turned to the window, an expression of horror on her face.

“It's Uther. He's here.”

Something shattered inside of Merlin.

He was too late. It was over.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Arthur was barely hanging onto consciousness – and might have been about to slip away – when the sound of the warning bell tolling through the castle brought him back to reality.

At a signal from Morgause, the guards paused in their beatings and a moment later a harried looking, young soldier dashed down the stairs into the dungeons.

“My lady! The Lady Morgana and Lord Emrys sent word,” the man said, carefully averting his eyes from Arthur. Arthur thought he might actually recognise him as one of the squires in training for a knight-hood before all this had begun. It seemed a lifetime ago.

“Uther and his army have reached Camelot. They are launching an attack on the citadel.”

The man seemed to cower a little in Morgause's presence and outwardly flinched as an audible crackle of magic echoed through the cell.

Morgause calmed after a moment, however, straightening her spine and turning to Arthur with a chilling smile.

“Wait here, little Prince. I've a matter that needs dealing with. However, I'm sure I'll be back soon.”

Arthur forced himself not to rise at the threat on his father, and it wasn't difficult, pain was lancing through every area of his body and it was enough of a fight just to remain conscious.

Morgause swept from the cell, the guards and the squire following. They took with them the torches and Arthur was plunged into darkness. He heard the door clang shut at the top of the steps

It was only then that he let himself show weakness. A whine of pain scraped out past his gritted teeth as he sagged in the chains, his wrists taking his weight once again.

The guards had moved from whipping onto beating, pausing whenever Arthur was knocked unconscious only to reawaken him with a cold wave of icy water.

Morgause had been silent through out, watching with a brutal satisfaction. Arthur wasn't sure, but he thought her eyes might have glowed more than once and guessed that the pain he was feeling might not solely be down to the beating alone.

He was drenched in water and sweat, his body beginning to shiver as the icy temperatures of the lower dungeon took hold and he put all his will power into just not moving, every twist or sway a burn on his wrists and a ferocious burn over the lashings on his back.

Just. Stay. Still.

And breathe.

Even that hurt, though, and spots danced in his vision.

Trepidation coiled in his stomach and he bit his lip, because one way or another, this was all going to be over soon. His father had arrived and either Morgause would win, or his father would.

Arthur realised he feared either outcome. And for a moment he couldn't understand his foreboding at his father reclaiming Camelot and then he remembered … _Merlin_. 

“ _I'll be executed. Mocked and hated by the crowd before being burned on the pyre.”_

Arthur remembered his promise, and repeated it to himself in that moment. _I won't let that happen._

* * *

“Merlin! Merlin stop! We have to fight! You can't just give in like this!” Morgana was chasing after him down the corridor but Merlin refused to listen. His hope which had burned so brightly not minutes before had fizzled and died, and with his his magic had retreated somewhere inside him. He felt hollow, broken.

“And what happens if we win, Morgana? If Morgause takes back power? He's still lost to me no matter what happens.” His voice croaked and he found he couldn't voice Arthur's name.

They turned the corner and entered the throne room, Merlin walking all the way up to the dais before stopping at the bottom step before the throne.

“Who's the real enemy, Morgana?” Merlin asked in the quiet that followed. “Uther? Morgause?” He huffed a laugh. “Or is it just me?”

“Help us win, Merlin!” Morgana said. “You have enough power, Morgause will bow to your authority--”

“That's not what I want!”

Merlin's coarse yell echoed in the silence of the room and Morgana took a step back, looking as if, finally something made sense to her.

“It's never what I wanted,” Merlin continued, angry at the tears that cascaded down his cheeks. Morgause had always taught him to never show weakness and only in the last weeks, knowing Arthur, had that all changed and the walls he had so carefully constructed had come tumbling. Arthur and a dream of destiny had shattered everything he knew to be true and he couldn't even begin to pick up the pieces and work out who, after all this time, he really was.

“Please, Merlin,” Morgana said, “just … stay alive.”

Merlin turned to face the throne, his back to Morgana, his shoulders hunched and his throat tight from crying.

“I hope you're happy, Morgana,” he said solemnly. “You're a better person than me. I know you'll see the right thing to do.”

He couldn't see Morgana's face and she never responded, the only warning he got of her leaving being the click of her heels over the wooden floor and then the slam of the door.

Once he was alone, Merlin crumpled, falling to his knees with messing tears cascading down his cheeks.

Above all, he wanted his mother. He wanted the fresh blue skies of Ealdor, to run through the meadows bringing life and goodness wherever he stepped.

But all that was lost to him now.

Some time later, as dawn approached filling the room with golden light, he heard the sound of armour clanking and a thunder of footsteps approaching down the corridor.

He stood once again, wiping the tears from his eyes and straightened his back.

He hoped Arthur would be happy.

* * *

Arthur wasn't conscious of much after his father's knights spilled into dungeon, freeing him of the chains and bearing him out. They carried him to Gaius' rooms where the physician was already at work. Apparently after his disappearance during his trial, Gaius had made his way to Uther and his expression was pained as he looked over Arthur's injuries.

“Was this Mer--?”

“Morgause.” Arthur grunted. “Gaius, what's happening?”

“Just rest, Arthur. You're safe now.”

“Tell me, Gaius!” Arthur was agitated, pushing himself up from where the knights had lain him on the table. His back spasmed in pain and Gaius was quick to press a bottle to his lips.

“It will help the pain.”

Arthur didn't really have a choice as Gaius tipped the contents down his throat.

He knew at once it was a sleeping potion, had had the prescribed many times over the years, and he collapsed back onto the table, drowsiness sweeping over him like a wave.

“Gaius …”

“Shh, Arthur. Just sleep.”

“No … no … Gaius … Is he ok? Is Merlin … ok?”

Gaius' expression morphed form confusion into shock, but the potion had taken too much of a hold and Arthur passed into oblivion before he got his answer.

 


	20. Chapter 20

The throne room was silent as Uther swept down its length. He looked much the same as Arthur had always remembered him: all-powerful, majestic, warrior-like.

Camelot had fallen back into Pendragon hands. Morgause and her army had been vanquished and red and gold banners once more flew from the battlements. It was almost like nothing had ever changed.

It wasn't too hard to see things had, however. Arthur for one hated the fact he still wasn't strong enough to stand and was forced to sit through the tedious proceedings of bringing Camelot back to freedom. Morgana was another key difference. She was stood off to the side now, wearing a simple, green dress. Gwen was by her side, looking much the same as Arthur remembered, but perhaps a little more tired. None of them had escaped Morgause's conquest unharmed.

Morgana seemed to flinch a little at the sight of Uther, and her mouth tightened in a grimace, but she neither said nor did anything. Arthur was thankful Uther hadn't demanded she was chained, as he had half expected his father to do. Without Morgana, none of them would be here now.

Uther swept round when he came to the throne, giving a bare nod to Arthur before surveying the rest of the room.

“People of Camelot, we have faced hard times, and each one of us has played their part in restoring Camelot to peace. The trials we have felt stand only as testament the the true evil of magic and the destruction it can cause.”

There was a cold silence as Uther's gaze swept the hall, lingering perhaps a moment too long upon Morgana. Arthur gripped the edge of his chair to hold back his emotions.

“The Lady Morgana, however, has been forgiven her crimes in the light of her brave acts, freeing herself from the sorceress Morgause's enchantments, and killing the witch.” Uther didn't look at Morgana now. Arthur, though, saw how she went pale, gripping at Gwen's hand.

He didn't really know what had happened whilst he had been unconscious, only that he had woken to find Morgana at his beside, Morgause's blood still staining her dress and telling him that it was all over.

He couldn't help but sense the foreboding in her tone.

“The sorcerer Emrys is still to face trial,” Uther continued, and he motioned to the guards at the end of the hall. “Bring him in.”

* * *

“ _Merlin?”_ _Arthur's voice had been hoarse as he'd finally gained the courage to ask Morgana._

_She looked a little tearful and shook her head._

_The world threatened to disappear from Arthur at that point. A cold tidal wave washed over him and he was frozen in the hard place between denial and grief._

“ _Oh, he's still alive …” Morgana was quick to say, but then she bit her lip. “He's to stand trial when you're well enough to give testimony.”_

_Dimly, Arthur was aware, that even though he had a moment of relief, Merlin's fate was as good as sealed. And there wouldn't be anything Arthur could do to stop it._

* * *

Two guards entered, dragging Merlin between them. His head was down and chains clinked as the three moved. Arthur couldn't see his face, but he found himself desperately checking Merlin for any sign of injury.

Sensing his father's gaze upon him, he quickly stopped, but he couldn't deny that soon his father was going to sentence Merlin to death, and Arthur didn't know how he would react. The guards stopped a short way from the throne and they released Merlin who dropped to his knees, still not raising his head.

“So.” Uther's tone was dripping with derision. “This is the sorcerer who thought he could take my kingdom.”

Still Merlin remained with his head bowed. Arthur desperately sought to go to him, to give Merlin some fight back, to make him stand tall and proud like the person he deserved to be.

And why wasn't Merlin fighting back? Arthur knew just how easily Merlin could blast them all to kingdom come. But he wasn't. He was simply accepting his fate.

“You, Emrys, stand accused of unlawfully declaring yourself king, imprisonment of the crown prince, torture, and above all, sorcery.” Uther spat the last word. “Are you guilty of these charges.”

There was silence. Merlin made no sound.

“Arthur.”

Arthur jumped as his father turned on him.

“Please recount for the court the pain and torture inflicted upon you by Emrys.”

Arthur had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from responding too quickly.

“He …” He tore his gaze away from Merlin and focused on a blank spot on the floor. “He used magic to restrain me. And to hurt me …”

Arthur fought to ignore the fact that Merlin was visibly shaking.

“Your silence condemns you, _sorcerer._ Therefore, I Uther Pendragon-”

“No. Father, stop.” The words were out of Arthur's mouth before he could stop himself. Merlin's head jerked up, giving Arthur a shake of his head, as if he wanted Arthur to stop. But how could Arthur just stand by and let Merlin die?

“Arthur?” Uther was curt.

“I believe Mer- Emrys was under the same enchantments as placed upon the Lady Morgana.”

Uther paused and for a moment Arthur dared to hope.

“Tell me, Arthur, did the Lady Morgana ever try to hurt you? Did she ever injure you?”

“No. But-”

“Did she ever use magic in your presence?”

“No. But-”

“Arthur you are deluded. Morgana here has helped us win back Camelot. The sorcerer only gave up when he realised there was nothing else he could do.”

“He saved my life!” Arthur protested, rising from his chair regardless of his injuries.

“A ploy, nothing else. He has tried to win you to his side, has he not? Told you the _goodness_ of magic? Tried to turn you against me?”

“He has proved to me that magic can be used for both evil and for good. It is the heart that makes that choice,” Arthur responded vehemently. “I believe I was able to get through to him.”

There was another silence. Then Uther laughed.

It was a chilling sound. Not one of happiness, but of derision.

“So, _Emrys_ , you have wound your enchantments on my son cleverly.”

“I'm not enchanted!” Arthur broke in, rushing forward as Uther moved towards Merlin.

“Guards, restrain the prince. Clearly he is not in his right mind.”

Men moved forwards to hold Arthur back just as Uther reached Merlin, pulling his head back by a fist in his hair.

“You would seek to take my kingdom, and then turn my son against me,” Uther growled. “Count it as mercy that I will deal you a swift death.”

“Believe what you will of me,” Merlin responded, his voice rough and quiet. “But I never enchanted your son.”

“You think I will believe the words of a sorcerer?” Uther snarled.

“My lord …” Morgana was hesitant as she broke in, but then she straightened, sounding more confident. “I believe during the time you were in hiding, Gaius produced a potion. One that will block a sorcerer's magic. Surely if it were administered to Emrys, whatever enchantments he has over Arthur will be broken?”

Arthur frowned. What on earth was Morgana doing?

Uther looked like he was considering it. Then he nodded.

“Perhaps you are right. Gaius, do you have this potion?”

Gaius appeared from the side of the room. “I do, my lord. I finished it shortly after I escaped to join your forces.”

Arthur couldn't understand what Morgana and Gaius were trying to do so he struggled at the hold the guards had him in. He needed to get to Merlin.

“Excellent, bring it here.”

Gaius came forward, handing a small glass vial with a clear substance in it to Uther.

Uther took it, glancing briefly at Merlin and then holding to vial out to Arthur.

“The prince will administer it.”

A cold wash of fear ran down Arthur's spine. The guards released him and he stumbled forward a little. He couldn't do this to Merlin. He couldn't take away his magic.

“This will prove his innocence, Arthur,” Morgana said, sounding confident.

There was something else though, a sharpness to Uther's gaze, that made Arthur wary.

Still, when his father beckoned, Arthur had no choice but to comply. If he refused, Uther would call him enchanted and administer the potion anyway. And if he accepted, there was a chance they could save Merlin.

He took the vial and knelt down in front of Merlin.

Merlin had stopped shaking and there was a deadness to his eyes that made even Arthur feel hollow and empty.

“I'm sorry, Merlin,” he murmured.

Merlin forced the smallest of smiles onto his lips. “Live for me, Arthur.”

Arthur pressed his lips together to hold back a sob and tipped the contents of bottle past Merlin's unresisting lips.

He stayed there, holding onto Merlin as he began to shake, small whines escaping him. It worsened, Merlin beginning to cry out, his eyes pressed tightly shut, until with a last scream of pain and a flood of gold from his irises, Merlin went limp.

“Merlin? Merlin?”

Arthur held him in his arms, tilting Merlin's head up and praying with all his might that they hadn't just … No. He couldn't bring himself to think it.

Merlin coughed a little, his eyes flickering open.

“It's gone.”

Strong arms grabbed Arthur from behind and pulled him back. The guards had restrained him once more.

“Enchantment or no,” Uther said, something of a satisfied smirk on his face, “this by no means proves your innocence.”

“My lord-”

“Sire, no!”

“Father, no! You can't do this!”

“Silence!” Uther roared. He glared at everyone in the hall, especially Gaius, Morgana, and then Arthur. One word invaded Arthur's mind.

 _Tyrant_.

“Take the sorcerer to the cells. He will burn at dawn.”

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

It was late that evening when Arthur heard the soft knock on his door.

It had been a frustrating day. He had wanted to rage and shout and break things, but after his struggles against the guards, some of the wounds on his back had reopened and he was forced to simply sit and watch the fire.

His father hadn't listened to their pleading, going as far as to threaten Morgana with the same fate as Merlin.

It was Morgana who entered, looking pale and worn. Arthur shifted in his chair, giving as much of a smile as he could muster.

“Oh, Arthur, I'm sorry,” she murmured, coming and sitting in the chair opposite.

“For what?” Arthur asked, trying to shrug but then stopping.

“I convinced you to use the potion on him. I shouldn't have.”

“You were trying to save him,” Arthur responded. “We all were. Father may have … It is possible he may have reconsidered, if I proved I wasn't enchanted. You tried, thank you for that.”

Morgana brought a fist down on the arm of her chair. “Will he never see past his hatred?”

Only silence greeted her words.

“How did you know about the potion?” Arthur asked sometime later.

“You and Gaius weren't half as secretive as you thought you were,” Morgana replied. “I listened behind the door, it wasn't difficult.”

“But you never told Morgause or Merlin?”

Morgana looked down. “Even from the beginning I was doubting Morgause. Her way wasn't right. It wasn't just. And Merlin … I didn't tell him because I knew he'd turn on you. I've seen things night after night in my dreams, the future the two of you will bring, and I couldn't let that fall because of me.”

“You still tried to stop it though,” Arthur pointed out. “Accusing Gaius to get to me. Why?”

Morgana's lips tightened.

“Back when I first learned I had magic, before I even met Morgause, I was afraid, naturally. I went to Gaius because he'd always helped and … He didn't do anything. He didn't even tell me he himself had magic which I found out later.”

Arthur grimaced.

“Hatred, Arthur. It eats you up until you forget who you used to be.”

They both fell to silence once more.

“How did you convince father you'd been enchanted?” Arthur asked.

“Well, he saw me kill Morgause,” Morgana replied, her knuckled white on the arm rests. Arthur knew this was a hurt that wouldn't heal soon. Morgause had made her place firmly in Morgana's life, through a mixture of kindness and manipulation. Arthur couldn't possibly begin to understand what it must have cost her to finally kill the witch. “But it was Gwen really. She convinced Uther that Morgause had given me a bracelet I'd been wearing. It was the truth, she gave it to me to block my dreams – dreams about your future I think, she didn't want me coming back to you – but those visions were always more powerful than Morgause's magic. Uther jumped to his own conclusions and Gaius confirmed the bracelet was of the Old Religion.”

“Are you happy?” Arthur asked abruptly.

“What do you mean?”

“To be back here? Hiding who you are? Seeing Uther every day?”

Morgana dipped her head. “I can't deny that its one of my worst nightmares. But Arthur … I know one day a time of peace and freedom will come.”

Arthur blew out a breath. “I don't know if that future will be coming, Morgana. I've lost Merlin.”

“No.” Morgana stood up. “No you haven't.”

“If we free him, Uther will know. He'll hunt Merlin and anyway … I don't think that destiny is meant for us. We're too broken.”

Morgana crouched in front of him, her face earnest.

“I've _seen_ it, Arthur. Your brokenness is what makes you whole. You and him have a future, two halves of a whole, two sides of a coin. You're only broken because you're not with him.”

“But I took away his magic!” Arthur protested. “He won't escape the guards.”

“I spoke to Gaius,” Morgana replied, almost becoming impatient now. “He said it was only temporary anyway, and Merlin is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth.”

“Then he doesn't need me. He can escape himself.”

Morgana slapped him.

For a moment the two looked at each other, each equally shocked, then they laughed.

“You deserved it. You're a stubborn fool, Arthur Pendragon.”

“And you're here to make me see sense?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. He rubbed at his stinging cheek.

“By whatever means,” Morgana smirked. She sobered a little and stood once more. “He'll be waiting for you, Arthur. He _needs_ you.”

* * *

The journey down to the dungeons took Arthur far longer than he would ever admit. Morgause's torture was still fresh and the wounds still stung but eventually he made it down, just as the guards were changing over for the night.

To his relief, it was Leon taking up his place at the entrance to the dungeons. As Arthur stepped out, Leon's hand went to his sword.

“Who's there?” he asked sharply.

“Only me,” Arthur responded, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

Leon relaxed, but then he frowned.

“What are you doing down here Arthur?”

Arthur straightened, trying to be the prince he had been trained to be.

“I'm visiting the prisoner.”

Leon had known Arthur throughout his childhood, and saw through the act immediately. He looked sympathetic, but didn't move.

“I can't allow it, Arthur.”

“Leon.”

“I'm sorry, by order of the king.”

“ _Leon._ Please. Five minutes.” Arthur didn't want to beg, but he would go to such measures if he needed to. However, he knew Leon just as well as Leon knew him. He knew how far he had to push.

“Alright. Five minutes.”

“Thank you.”

The cell where Merlin was was dark and Arthur grimaced as his torch lit up rotting straw and a rat scurrying away from the light. The next moment, however, he was dropping to his knees, coming up close to the bars and reaching for Merlin.

“I didn't think you'd come,” Merlin said quietly, shuffling so he and Arthur could hold hands. His wrists were chained though, and they couldn't reach any further.

“How are you?” Arthur asked, checking Merlin over for any further signs of physical injury.

“Fine.”

“Merlin, I'm so sorry. I should never have done that to you. Morgana was just trying to help and if I didn't go through with it-” Arthur's voice rose in distress.

“Arthur, Arthur shhh. It's ok. My magic was blocked, but not for long. It's back now.”

“But … then why are you still here?” Arthur's grasp tightened on Merlin's hands.

“It's over for me, Arthur. You need to leave.” Merlin's voice was soft, aching with years of regret.

“Did you expect me to just leave you down here, Merlin? I'm getting you out!”

Merlin gave a soft laugh.

“I saw it right from the beginning. I knew you'd never give up. But you don't have a choice now. You need to leave before someone catches you here.”

“I've got us a few minutes, and anyway, don't you dare be self sacrificing Merlin. I'm not going to let you die.” Arthur squeezed Merlin's hand trying to emphasise his point.

“And what? You free me, and then what? Uther would know it was you and he'd imprison you for it. And what future would it be with one of us on the run and the other locked up? I want you to be happy, Arthur. You won't be happy in a cell.” Merlin tugged his hands out of Arthur's grip.

“I will never be happy without you, Merlin!” Arthur insisted. “I made you a promise, remember? I won't let you die.”

“No, Arthur. This is my choice. My story is over, but you can still have a future.”

“It won't be a future without you!” Arthur shouted, his frustration and worry flowing over. “We've got a destiny to fulfil, Merlin. Something to live for.” He quietened, aware of Leon shifting at the end of the passage. “I love you. I can't lose you.” He said, his words no louder than a whisper.

Merlin looked up, his eyes filled with tears. “Arthur …”

“No. Merlin, listen to me. You can escape, go on the run. I'll have Morgana confirm I was in my chambers all evening. Then when you're ready, when _we're_ ready … you can come back.”

In the dark, Arthur saw Merlin's eyes gleam gold as his chains fell away. A moment later Merlin was up against the other side of the bars, his forehead pressed against Arthur's.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I love you. I love you, Merlin.”

“I love you too,” Merlin replied.

The kiss was chaste, but it meant something. It was a promise.

“I'll come back,” Merlin promised.

“I'll be waiting.”

“Go, Arthur. Go now.”

Back at the end of the corridor, Arthur passed Leon. He knew he couldn't ask the man to lie for him and was just preparing to walk past in silence when Leon stopped him.

“I know you to be a good and just man, Arthur. So … I didn't see you here tonight. Whatever might happen, I never saw you here.”

Arthur nodded his thanks. “You're a good man too, Leon.”

Leon bowed his head.

“Goodnight, sire.”

 


	22. Epilogue

_ Three years later… _

Sunlight streamed over the castle and streets. Summer was at its peak and all of Camelot was alive with smells and sights, flowers spilling from baskets and people dancing in the streets.

Merlin breathed in deep and let the smallest of smiles curl his lips. Part of him had believed he would never see the castle again.

“Great place, Camelot,” Gwaine said as they made their way up the main street. “Taverns, women, fighting. Can't imagine why you wouldn't want to come here, unless of course you were a sorcerer that is.” He side-eyed Merlin meaningfully. “Then you'd have to be more insane than me.”

Merlin ducked his head to hide the flicker of worry. Lancelot on the other side of Gwaine reached out and knocked Gwaine lightly on the back of his head.

“If Merlin's ready, then he's ready.” Lancelot said calmly.

“I'm not doubting that he's ready, I'm just saying you'd have to have a death wish to be a sorcerer and come here.” Gwaine spread his hands. “But I see no sorcerers, so all is well.”

Something of a knot was loosening in Merlin's chest as they carried on through the lower town. The people here didn't shrink away in fear like they had before. They greeted him with smiles.

Gwaine, in his own sort of way, was right, because Merlin had changed, and people no longer saw a sorcerer when they saw him.

His face had filled out and he'd become physically stronger after months of manual labour back in Ealdor. His home hadn't changed, excepting the fact his mother was dead, but Merlin had found a strange sort of peace in the village. He'd learned to live again.

He had exchanged black cloaks and clothing for brightly coloured shirts and neckerchiefs. When people saw him now, they didn't recognise him as the sorcerer-king. He was just another peasant boy.

They reached the portcullis at the entrance to the castle courtyard and Merlin stopped in his tracks, strange chills running up and down his spine.

“Merlin? Are you ok?” Lancelot asked.

Merlin bit his lip and nodded.

“It's just strange, that's all,” he replied.

“Look, if you're not ready-” Gwaine began.

“No. I need to do this.”

The courtyard was quiet, only a few guards moving on patrol. Merlin stopped just before the doors to the keep. He couldn't exactly just walk in and find Arthur, could he? He wondered if Arthur would even want to see him.

“Merlin?”

He spun to find Gaius a short way behind them. Both Gwaine and Lancelot had gone for their swords but Merlin waved them down.

“Gaius.”

“Oh … my boy,” Gaius pulled him into a hug and after a moment, Merlin reciprocated. It felt foreign – this fondness and care.

“You look … you look well,” Gaius said as they broke apart.

Merlin didn't know how to respond, so simply shrugged.

“Merlin,” Lancelot said quietly, “if Gaius can recognise you, surely this isn't wise? What if Uther realises-”

“Uther won’t know him,” Gaius said quickly. “He barely saw you … and I guess I’d always hoped you would come back.” The smallest of smiles lifted Merlin’s lips at that. 

“Come up to my chambers,” Gaius continued. “We need to talk.”

During his time as king, Merlin had never entered Gaius' chambers. He had avoided them for fear of what the memories of his mother and his childhood might do.

Upon entering them now, he was greeted with a great collection of sights and smells. Books and vials and herbs littered every surface the windows were flung wide to let in the summer air. 

Gaius dumped a bag of medicines on a table and then held Merlin at arms reach.

“Let’s have a proper look at you then,” he said. He seemed content with what he saw even as Merlin ducked shyly away. 

Gwaine and Lancelot were observing the room, and Gwaine knocking over a pile of books provided a distraction, Merlin able to escape Gaius’ attentions as he scolded a sheepish Gwaine. 

They talked briefly about what had happened since Merlin had left. Uther’s health was failing, Morgana was liaising with the druids. Noticeably, they both avoided the topic of Arthur. 

Eventually, however, it couldn’t be unsaid any longer. 

“And what about … Arthur?” Merlin bit his lip as something of a knowing look crossed Gaius’ face. 

“The Prince is safe and well. He’s taken a lot of responsibility on his shoulders since you were last here. And he’ll be a fine king.” 

“But what about …” Merlin trailed off. 

Gaius bowed his head a little. 

“He will be a king of legend, with you at his side. It’s your destiny, Merlin.” 

Merlin couldn’t find the words to respond. 

“He’s been out on patrol today, but he’s returning for tonight. There’s a feast being held. Lady Helen is going to perform, she’s a well-renowned singer. You’ll be able to speak to Arthur after, I’m sure.” 

Merlin nodded his thanks, and tried to ignore the butterflies which had broken out in his stomach. After so long, he didn’t know how Arthur would react. Would he even recognise Merlin? Would he still … still love him?

* * *

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Uther said, a pleased look on his face as he surveyed the guests. “We have enjoyed three years now since the downfall of the sorcerers Morgause and Emrys. We have come to a time of peace and prosperity and it has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.” 

Merlin felt a blow to his stomach at the mention of Emrys. Across the hall, Gwaine and Lancelot glanced at him, but Merlin managed to control his emotions. 

If he hadn’t known Uther was ill, he wouldn’t have noticed. He still seemed as cold and forbidding as he had three years ago, but there was a slight shaking of his hand, a slight greyness to his skin which gave away his failing condition. 

Arthur on the other hand … He looked … Merlin couldn’t find words to describe how he looked. He still had that golden blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, still held himself with honour and pride. But there was something more, something Merlin couldn’t put his finger on. 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a shadow cross Arthur’s face at the mention of Emrys.

Arthur hadn’t seen him yet, and although Merlin had planned to approach after the feast, he couldn’t help but inch closer, standing back in an alcove near Arthur’s chair as Lady Helen began to sing. 

Her voice was like nothing Merlin had ever heard before, strong and full, yet somehow eerie at the same time. It made shivers run down his spine, and his magic crackled in warning. 

The banquet hall was falling dark and silent, except for the shrill tones of Lady Helen, and cobwebs grew out of nothing over the sleeping guests. 

Clapping his hands over his ears, Merlin watched in horror as the witch strode down the hall, her eyes fixed on Arthur. 

It was over in a split second as Merlin’s magic lashed out to protect and brought the chandelier crashing down on Lady Helen. 

Very slowly, the hall returned to life, Uther rising from his chair in shock to see not Lady Helen, but an old woman, who at that moment rose in a shriek and threw a dagger at Arthur. 

Time slowed down and with the drums of destiny echoing in Merlin’s ears, he dragged Arthur out of the way. 

A warmth filled Merlin’s belly as Arthur rose to get up, looking down to see who his saviour was. 

“ _ Merlin … _ ” He mouthed Merlin’s name in surprise, eyes widening in disbelief. 

Merlin gave the smallest of nods. 

Somehow, it seemed like this was always meant to have happened as Uther came to thank Merlin, who ducked his head … but there was no need to hide. Uther did not recognise him. 

Inexplicably, Merlin suddenly knew that everything was going to be alright. 

* * *

Arthur reached out to trace the line of Merlin’s jaw as they sat near the fire in Arthur’s chambers later that night. 

“You came back,” Arthur murmured, still seeming somewhat in shock. 

“You waited,” Merlin replied, taking Arthur’s hand - the hand he had healed with magic … the first time Arthur had trusted him - and kissing gently along Arthur’s knuckles. 

“And you won’t leave now?” Arthur asked, his free hand clasping the other side of Merlin’s face. 

“Never.” 

Merlin wasn’t sure who moved in first for the kiss, but they met in a clash of lips which quickly softened as they drew each other closer. 

Merlin collapsed into the embrace, visions of Camelot, Arthur, and the promise of the future burning bright in his mind.

But that moment by the fire, hearts alight with hope and love, was theirs. 

The dawning of their destiny. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much to everyone who has followed this through to the end even with the frankly ridiculous length between updates! I hope you have enjoyed it, it was a challenge to write but I enjoyed it. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented/gave kudos/subscribed/bookmarked, you're all the best!!! :)


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